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AN ACCOUNT OF HIS LIFE; 



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SEVERAL OF HIS LETTERS 



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THOMAS PRIOR, ESQ. DEAN GERVALS, MR. POPE, &c. 



IN THREE VOLUMES. 

VOL. III. 



LONDON: 

PRINTED BT J.F. DOVE, ST. JOHN'S SQUARE; 
FOR RICHARD PRIESTLEY, 113, HIGH HOLBORN. 

1820. 

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CONTENTS TO VOL. III. 



Page 
1. 



•«• 



41 

47 
63 
85 



A Defbncb of Free-Thinking b Mgltomatics - -_ - .^ 

An Appendix concerning Mr. Walton's Vindication of Sip 
Isaac Newton's Principles of Fluxions : -: ; «c : * : - 

Reasons for not replying to Mr. Walton's full* Answer 

An Essay towards preventing the Ruin ofGr&t fintijin: "- *. 

A Discourse addressed to Magistrates ami Men in Authority 

A Word to the Wise 113 

A Letter to the Roman Catholics of the Diocess of Cloyne 133 

Maxims Concerning Patriotism -------- 139 

The Querist - - - - 145 

A Proposal for the better supplying of Churches in our 
Foreign Plantations, and for converting the Savage 
Americans to Christianity --------- 21 1 

Verses, on the Prospect of planting Arts and Teaming in 
America -------------- 331 

A Sermon preached before the Incorporated Society, for 

the Propagation of die Gospel in Foreign Parts - - 

Siris ---------------- 

A Letter to T — P — , Esq. containing some farther Re- 
foarks on die Virtues of Tar Water ------ 

Farther Thoughts on Tar Water 

A Second Letter to T — P — , Esq. concerning the useful- 
ness of Tar Water in the Plague ------- 443 



235 
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DEFENCE 



OF 



FREE-THINKING 



IX 



MATHEMATICS. 



IK AN0WXR 



To a Pamphlet of Pbilaletbet Cantabrigiensis, entitled. Geometry no 
Friend to Infidelity, or a Defence of Sir Isaao Newton and the British 
Mathematicians. 



ALSO. 



An Appendix concerning Mr. Walton's Vindication of the Principles of 
Fluxions against the Objections contained in the Analyst 



WHXRXIN 



It is attempted to pat this controversy in such a light as that every reader 

may be able to judge thereof. 



VOL. III. 



B 



DEFENCE 



OP 



FREE-THINKING IN MATHEMATICS, 

Sfc. 



I. When I read your Defence of the British Mathema- 
ticians, I could not, Sir, but admire your courage in as- 
serting with such undoubting assurance things so easily 
disproved. This to me seemed unaccountable, till I re* 
fleeted on what you say p. 32, when upon my having 
appealed to every thinking reader, whether it be possible 
to frame any clear conception of fluxions, you express 
yourself in the following manner, " Pray, Sir, who are 
those thinking readers you appeal to ? Are they geome- 
tricians or persons wholly ignorant of geometry ? If the 
former, I leave it to them : if the latter, I ask, how well 
are they qualified to judge of the method of fluxions ?" 
It must be acknowledged you seem by this dilemma 
secure in the favour of one part of your readers, and 
the ignorance of the other. I am nevertheless per- 
suaded there are fair and candid men among the mathe- 
maticians. And for those who are not mathematicians, 
I shall endeavour so to unveil this mystery, and put the 
controversy between us in such a light, as that every 
reader of ordinary sense and reflection may be a com- 
petent judge thereof. 

"You express an extreme surprise and concern, 
that I should take so much pains to depreciate one of 
the noblest sciences, to disparage and traduce a sel of 



4 ▲ DEFENCE OF FREE-THINKING, &C. 

learned men, whose labours so greatly conduce to the 
honour of this island (p. 5), to lessen the reputatioft 
and authority of Sir Isaac Newton and his followers, 
by shewing that they are not such masters of reason as 
they are generally presumed to be ; and to depreciate 
the science they profess, by demonstrating to the world, 
that it is not of that clearness and certainty as is com- 
monly imagined. AU which, you insist, appears very 
strange to you and the rest of that famous University, 
who plainly see of how great use mathematical learning 
is to mankind." Hence you take occasion to declaim 
on the usefulness of mathematics in the several branches, 
and then to redouble your surprise and amazement (p. 
12 and 20). To all which declamation I reply, that it is , 
quite beside the purpose. For I allow, and always have 
allowed, its full claim of merit to whatever is useful and 
true in the mathematics : but that which is not so, the 
less it imploys men's time and thoughts, the better. And 
after all you have said or can say, I believe the unpreju- 
diced reader will think with me, that things obscure are 
not therefore sacred : and that is no more a crime, to 
canvass and detect unsound principles or false reason- 
ings in mathematics, than in any other part of learning. 
III. You are, it seems, much at a loss to under- 
stand the usefulness or tendency or prudence of my at- 
tempt. I thought I had sufficiently explained this in 
the Analyst But for your farther satisfaction shall 
here tell you, it is very well known, that several persons 
who deride faith and mysteries in religion, admit the 
doctrine of fluxions for true and certain. Now if it be 
shewn that fluxions are really most incomprehensible 
mysteries, and that those who believe them to be clear 
and scientific, do entertain an implicit faith in the au- 
thor of that method ; will not this furnish a fair argu~ 
mentum ad hominem against men, who reject that very 
thing in religion which they admit in human learning ? 
And is it not a proper way to abate the pride and 



A DSFBKCS OP FMH-THINKING, &C. 5 

credit the pretensions of those who insist upon clear 
ideas in points of faith, if it be shewn that they do with- 
out them even in science. 

IV. As to my timing this charge ; why now and not 
before, since I had published hints thereof many years 
ago ? Surely I am obliged to give ho account of this : if 
what hath been said in the Analyst be not sufficient; 
suppose that I had not leisure, or that I did not think it 
expedient, or that 1 had no mind to it. When a man 
thinks fit to publish any thing, either in mathematics, 
or in any other part of learning ; what avails it, or in- 
deed what right hath any one to ask, why at this or that 
time ; in this or that manner ; upon this or that motive ? 
Let the reader judge, if it suffice not, that what I pub* 
lish is true, and that I have a right to publish such truths 
when and how I please in a free country. 

V. I do not say ; that mathematicians, as such, are 
infidels ; or that geometry is a friend to infidelity, which 
you untruly insinuate, as you do many other things ; 
whence you raise topics for invective : but I say there 
are certain mathematicians, who are known to be so ; 
and that there are others, who are not mathematicans, 
who are influenced by a regard for their authority. Some 
perhaps, who live in the University, may not be ap- 
prised of this : but the intelligent and observing reader, 
who lives in the world, and is acquainted with the hu- 
mour of the times, and the characters* of men, is well 
aware there are too many that deride mysteries, and yet 
admire fluxions ; who yield that faith to a mere mortal 
which they deny to Jesus Christ, whose religion they 
make it their study and business to discredit The own- 
ing this is not to own, that men who reason well are 
enemies to religion, as you would represent it : on the 
contrary, I endeavour to shew, that such men are de - 
fective in point of reason and judgment, and that they 
do the very thing they would seem to despise. 

VI. There are, I make no doubt, amortg the mathema* 



A DEFINCE OP FHBE-THINKING, &C. 

ticians many sincere believers in Jesus Christ; I know 
several such myself; but I addressed my Analyst to aa 
infidel : and on very good grounds, I supposed that, be- 
sides him, there were other deriders of faith, who had 
nevertheless a profound veneration for fluxions ; and I 
was willing to set forth the inconsistence of such men. 
If there be no such thing as infidels, who pretend to 
knowledge in the modern analysis, I own myself misin- 
formed, and shall gladly be found in a mistake ; but 
even in that case, my remarks upon fluxions are not the 
less true ; nor will it follow, that I have no right to ex- 
amine them on the foot of human science, even though 
religion were quite unconcerned, and though I had no 
end to serve but truth. But you are very angry (p. 13 
and 14) that I should enter the lists with reasoning infi- 
dels, and attack them upon their pretensions to science : 
and hence you take occasion to shew your spleen against 
the clergy. I will not take upon me to say, that I know 
you to be a minute philosopher yourself : but I know, 
the minute philosophers make just such compliments as 
you do to our church, and are just as angry as you can 
be at any who undertake to defend religion by reason. 
If we resolve all into faith, they laugh at us and our 
faith : and if we attempt to reason, they are angry at us : 
they pretend we got out of our province, and they re- 
commend to us a blind implicit faith. Such is the in- 
consistence of our adversaries. But it is to be hoped, 
there will never be wanting men to deal with them at 
their own weapons ; and to shew, they are by no means 
those masters of reason which they would fain pass for. 
VII. I do not say, as you would represent me, that 
we have no better reason for our religion than you have 
for fluxions : but I say, that an infidel, who believes the 
doctrine of fluxions, acts a very inconsistent part, in pre* 
tending to reject the Christian religion, because he can- 
not believe what he doth not comprehend : or because 
he cannot assent without evidence ; or because he can- 



A DEFENCE OP FREE-THINKING, &C. 7 

not submit his faith to authority. Whether there are 
such infidels, I submit to the judgment of the reader ; 
for my own part I make no doubt of it, having seen some 
shrewd signs thereof myself, and having been very cre- 
dibly informed thereof by others. Nor doth this charge 
seem the less credible, for your being so sensibly touched 
and denying it with so much passion. You, indeed, do 
not stick to affirm, that the persons who informed me 
are a pack of base, profligate, and impudent liars (p. 27). * 
How far the reader will think fit to adopt your passions 
I cannot say ; but I can truly say, the late celebrated 
Mr. Addison is one of the persons whom you are pleased 
to characterize in these modest and mannerly terms. 
He assured me that the infidelity of a certain noted ma- 
thematician, still living, was one principal reason assign- 
ed by a witty man of those times for his being an infidel. 
Not that I imagine geometry disposeth men to infidel- 
ity : but that from other causes, such as presumption, 
ignorance, or vanity, like other men geometricians also 
become infidels, and that the supposed light and evidence 
of their science gains credit to their infidelity. 

VIII. " You reproach me with calumny, detraction, 
and artifice (p. 15). You recommend such means as are 
innocent and just, rather than the criminal method of 
lessening or detracting from my opponents. (Ibid.) You 
accuse me of the odium theologicum, the intemperate zeal 
of divines, that I do stare super vias antiquas? (p. ] 3) ; 
with much more to the same effect. For all which 
charge I depend on the reader's candour, that he will 
not take your word, but read and judge for himself. In 
which case he will be able to discern (though he should 
be no mathematician) how passionate and unjust your 
reproaches are, and how possible it is, for a man to cry 
out against calumny and practise it in the same breath. 
Considering how impatient all mankind are when their 
prejudices are looked into, I do not wonder to see you 
rail and rage at the rate you do. But if your own ima- 



8 A DIFEIfC* OP MLBK-THINKXNG, &C. 

gtnation be strongly, shocked and moved, you ctntiot 
therefore conclude, that a sincere endeavour to free a 
acience, bo useful and ornamental to human life, from 
those subtilties, obscurities, and paradoxes, which render 
it inaccessible to most men, will be thought a criminal 
undertaking by such as are in their right mind. Much 
less can you hope that an illustrious seminary of learned 
men which hath produced so many free-spirited inqui- 
ries after truth, will at once enter into your passions 
and degenerate into a nest of bigots. 

IX. I observe upon the inconsistency of certain in- 
fidel analysts. I remark some defects in the principles 
of the modern analysis. I take the liberty decently to 
dissent from Sir Isaac Newton. I propose some helps 
to abridge the trouble of mathematical studies, and ren- 
der them more useful. What is there in all this that 
should make you declaim on the usefulness of practical 
mathematics ? That should move you to cry out, Spain, 
inquisition, odium theologicum ? By what figure of speech, 
do you extend what is said of the modern analysis to 
mathematics in general, or what is said of mathematical 
infidels to all mathematicians, or the confuting an- error 
in science to burning or hanging the authors ? But it is 
nothing new or strange, that men should choose to in- 
dulge their passions, rather than quit their opinions, how 
absurd soever. Hence the frightful visions and tragical 
uproars of bigoted men, be the subject of their bigotry 
what it will. A very remarkable instance of this you 
give, p. 27, where, upon my having said that a de- 
ference to certain mathematical infidels, as I was credi- 
bly informed, had been one motive to infidelity, you ask, 
with no small emotion, " For God's sake are we in Eng» 
land or in Spain ? Is " this the language of a familiar 
who is whispering an inquisitor." &c ? And the page 
before you exclaim in the following words, " Let us 
burn or hang up all the mathematicians in Great Bri- 
tain, or halloo the mob upon them to tear them to pieces 



A DJ5FENCE OF FfcfcE-THINKltfG, &C. ft 

every mother's son of them tr as rutuhisbe Juat> laymen 
or clergyman, &e. Let us dig up the bodies of Dr. 
Barrow and Sir Isaac Newton, and burn them under 
the gallows/' &c. 

X. The reader need not be a mathematician, to Sec! 
how vain all this tragedy of yours is. And if he be as 
thoroughly satisfied as I am, that the cause of fluxions 
cannot be defended by reason, he will be as little surprised 
as I am, to see you betake yourself to the arts of all 
bigoted men, raising terror and calling in the passions to 
your assistance. Whether those rhetorical flourishes 
about the inquisition and the gallies are not quite ridi- 
culous, I leave to be determined by the reader : who 
will also judge (though he should not beskilled in geo- 
metry) whether I have given the least grounds for this . 
and a world of such-like declamation ? And whether I 
have not constantly treated those celebrated writers with 
all proper respect, though I take the liberty in certain 
po ints to differ from them ? 

XI. As I heartily abhor an inquisition in faith, so I 
think you have no right to erect one in science. At the 
time erf writing your defence you seem to have been 
overcome with passion ; but now, you may be supposed 
cool, I desire you to reflect whether it be not wrote m 
the true spirit of an inquisitor. Whether this becomes 
a person so exceeding delicate himself upon that point? 
Aad whether your brethren the analysts will think 
themselves honoured or obliged by you, for having de- 
fended their doctrine, in the same manner as any de- 
claiming bigot would defend transubstantiation ? The 
same false colours, the same intemperate sallies, and the 
same indignation against common sense ! 

XII. In a matter of mere science, where authority 
hath nothing to do, you constantly endeavour to over- 
bear me with authorities, and load me with envy. If I 
see a sophism in the writings of a great author, and, in 
compliment to his understanding, suspect he could hard- 

VOL. III. c 



10 A DEFENCE OF FBEE-THINKINO, &C. 

ly be quite satisfied with his own demonstration ; this 
sets you on declaiming for several pages. It is pomp- 
ously set forth as a criminal method of detracting from 
great men, as a concerted project to lessen their reputa- 
tion, as making them pass for impostors. If I publish 
my free thoughts, which I have as much right to pub- 
lish as any other man, it is imputed to rashness and va- 
nity and the love of opposition. Though perhaps my 
late publication, of what had been hinted twenty-five 
years ago* may acquit me of this charge in the eyes of an 
impartial reader. But when I consider the perplexities 
that beset a man who undertakes to defend the doctrine 
of fluxions, I can easily forgive your anger. 

XIII. Two sorts of learned men there are : one 
who candidly seek truth by rational means* These are 
never averse to have their principles looked into, and ex- 
amined by the test of reason. Another sort there is who 
learn by rote a set of principles and a way of thinking 
which happen to be in vogue. These betray themselves 
by their anger and surprise, whenever their principles 
are freely canvassed* But you must not expect, that 
your reader will make himself a party to your passions 
or your prejudices. I freely own that Sir Isaac Newton 
hath shewed himself an extraordinary mathematician, a 
profound naturalist, a person of the greatest abilities and 
erudition. Thus far I can readily go, but I cannot go 
to the lengths that you do. I shall never say of him as 
you do, Vestigia promts adoro (p. 70). This same adora- 
tion that you pay to him I will pay only to truth. 

XIV. You may, indeed, yourself be an idolater of 
whom you please : but then you have no right to insult 
and exclaim at other men, because they do not adore 
your idol. Great as Sir Isaac Newton was, I think he 
hath, on more occasions than one, shewed himself not 
to be infallible. Particularly, his demonstration of the 
doctrine of fluxions I tike to be defective, and I cannot 
help thinking that he was not quite pleased with it htm- 



A DEFENCE OF FftBE-THINKING, &C. 1 1 

self. And yet this doth not hinder but the method may 
be useful, considered as an art of invention. You, who 
are a mathematician, must acknowledge, there have 
been divers such methods admitted in mathematics, 
which are not demonstrative. Such, for instance, are 
the inductions of Doctor Wallis in his Arithmetic of 
Infinites, and such what Harriott, and after him, Des- 
cartes, have wrote concerning the roots of affected 
equations* It will not, nevertheless, thence follow that 
those methods are useless ; but only, that they are not 
to be allowed of as premises in a strict demonstration. 
- XV. No great name upon earth shall ever make me 
accept things obscure for clear, or sophisms for demon- 
strations. Nor may you ever hope to deter me from 
freely speaking what I freely think, by those arguments 
ab invidia which at every turn you employ against me. 
You represent yourself (p. 52) as a man whose highest 
ambition is in the lowest degree to imitate Sir Isaac New- 
ton. It might, perhaps, have suited better with your 
appellation of Philalethes, and been altogether as laud- 
able, if your highest ambition had been to discover truth. 
Very consistently with the character you give of your- 
self, you speak of it as a sort of crime (p. 70) to think 
it possible, you should ever see farther, or go beyond Sir 
Isaac Newton. And I am persuaded you speak the 
sentiments of many more besides yourself. But there 
are others who are not afraid to sift the principles of 
human science, who think it no honour to imitate the 
greatest man in his defects, who even think it no crime 
to desire to know, not only beyond Sir Isaac Newton, 
but beyond all mankind. And whoever thinks other- 
wise, I appeal to the reader, whether he can properly be 
called a philosopher. 

XVI. Because I am not guilty of your mean idol- 
atry, you inveigh against me as a person conceited of 
my own abilities ; not considering that a person of less 
abilities may know more on a certain point than one of 

c 2 



12 A DIPBSTCB OF FEBE-TH INKING, 6cC. 

greater; not considering that a purblind eye, in a dose 
and narrow view, may discern more oft thing, than a 
much better eye in a more extensive prospect ; not con- 
sidering that this is to fix a ne plus ultra, to put a stop 
to all future inquiries ; lastly, not considering that this 
is in feet, so much as in you lies, converting the republic 
of letters into an absolute monarchy, that it is even intro- 
ducing a kind of philosophic popery among a free people. 

XVII. I have said (and I venture still to say) that 
a fluxion ia incomprehensible : that second, third, and 
fourth fluxions, are yet more incomprehensible : that it 
is not possible' to conceive a simple infinitesimal, that it 
is yet less possible to conceive an infinitesimal of an infi- 
nitesimal, and sa onward;* What have you .to say in 
answer to- this ? Do you attempt to clear up the notion 
of a fluxion Or a difference ? Nothing like it ; " you 
only assure me (upon your bare word), from your own 
experience, and that of several others whom you could 
name, that the doctrine of fluxions may be clearly con- 
ceived and distinctly comprehended ; and that if I am 
pimjed about it and do not understand it, yet others 
do;" *But can you think, Sir, I shall take your word 
when I refuse to take your master's ? 

XVIII. Upon this point every reader of common 
tense may judge as well as the most profound mathe- 
matician. The simple apprehension of a thing defined 
is not made more perfect by any subsequent progress 
in mathematics. What any man evidently knows, he 
knows as well as you or Sir Isaac Newton. And every 
one can know whether the object of this method be (as 
you would have us think) clearly conceivable. To judge 
of this, no depth of science is requisite, but only a bare 
attention to what passes in his own mind. And the 
same is to* be understood of all definitions in all sciences 
whatsoever. In none of which can it be supposed, that 
a man of senpe and spirit will take any definitknvor prin<- 

* Analyst, sect, iv, v, ri, frc. 



A DEPBKCI OF PRBH-THIIIKING, &C 13 

ciple upon trusty without sifting it to the bottom, and 
trying how fir he can dr he cannot conceive it. TW* 
is the course I have taken and shall take, however you 
and your brethren may declaim against it, and place it 
in the most invidious light 

XIX* It is usual with you to admonish me to look 
over a second time, to consult, examine, weigh the words 
of Sir Isaac In answer to which I will venture to say, 
that I have taken as much pains as (I sincerely believe) 
any man living, to understand that great author, and to 
make sense of his principles., No industry nor caution- 
nor attention, I assure you, have been wanting on my 
part. So that, if I do not understand him, it is not mf 
fault but my misfortune. Upon other subjects you are 
pleased to compliment me with depth of thought and 
uncommon abilities (p. 5 and 84). But I freely own, 
I have no pretence to those things. The only advan- 
tage I pretend to, is, that I have always thought and? 
judged for myself. Andy as I never had a master in 
mathematics, so I fairly followed the dictates of my own 
mind in examining and censuring the authors I read* 
upon that subject, with the same freedom that I used 
upon any other ; taking nothing upon trust, and believ- 
ing that no writer was infallible. And a man of mo- 
derate parts, who takes this painful course in studying 
the principles of any science, may be supposed to walk 
more surely than those of greater abilities, who set out 
with more speed and less care. 

XX. What I insist on is, that the idea of a fluxion 
aimply considered is not at all improved or amended by 
any progress, though. ever so great, in the analysis:: 
neither are the demonstrations of the general rules of 
that method at all cleared up by applying them. The 
reason of which is, because in operating or calculating, 
men do not return to contemplate the original principles 
of the method, which they constantly presuppose, but 
are employed in working, by notes and symbols, denot- 



J 4 A DEFENCE OF FREE-THINKING, &C. % 

ing the fluxions supposed to have been at first explained,- 
and according to rules supposed to have been at first 
demonstrated. This I say to encourage those, who are 
not far gone in these studies, to use intrepidly their own- 
judgment, without a blind or a mean deference to the 
best of mathematicians, who are no more qualified than 
they are, to judge of the simple apprehension, or the 
evidence of what is delivered in the first elements of 
the method ; men by farther and frequent use or exer- 
cise becoming only more accustomed to the symbols and 
rules, which doth not make either the foregoing no- 
tions more clear, or the foregoing proofs more perfect. 
Every reader of common sense, that will but use his 
faculties, knows as well as the most profound analyst 
what idea he frames or can frame of velocity without, 
motion, or of motion without extension, of magnitude 
which is neither finite nor infinite, or of a quantity 
having no magnitude which is yet divisible, of a figure 
where there is no space, of proportion between nothings, . 
or of a real product from nothing multiplied by some- - 
thing. He need, not be far gone in geometry to know, 
that obscure principles are not. to be admitted in demon-- 
stration : that if a man destroys his own hypothesis, he* 
at the same time destroys what was built upon it : that 
error in the premises, not rectified, must produce error * 
in the conclusion. 

XXI. In my opinion the greatest men have their 
prejudices. Men learn the elements of science from 
others : and every learner hath a deference more or less 
to authority, especially the young learners, few of that 
kind caring to dwell long upon principles, but inclining 
rather to take them upon trust : and things early ad- 
mitted by repetition become familiar: and this fami- 
liarity at length passeth for evidence. Now to me it- 
seems, there are certain points tacitly admitted by ma-* 
thematicians, which are neither evident nor true. And . 
such points or principles ever mixing with their reason- 



A DBFENCH OP FHBE- THINKING, &C. 15 

iogs do lead them into paradoxes and perplexities. If 
the great author of the fluxionary method was early im- 
bued with such notions, it would only shew he was a 
man. And if by virtue of some latent error in his prin- 
ciples a man be drawn into fallacious reasonings, it is 
nothing strange that he should take them for true : 
and, nevertheless, if, when urged by perplexities and 
uncouth consequences, and driven to arts and shifts, he 
should entertain some doubt thereof, it is no more than 
one may naturally suppose might befal a great genius 
grappling with an insuperable difficulty : which is the 
light in which I have placed Sir Isaac Newton.* Here- 
upon you are pleased to remark, that I represent the 
great author not only as a weak but an ill man, as a de- 
ceiver and an impostor. The reader will judge how justly. 

XXII. As to the rest of your colourings and glosses, 
your reproaches and insults and outcries, I shall pass 
them over, only desiring the reader not to take your 
word, but read what I have written, and he will want 
no other answer. It hath been often observed, that the 
worst cause produceth the greatest clamour; and indeed 
you are so clamorous throughout your defence, that the 
reader, although he should be no mathematician, pro- 
vided ^^understands common sense and hath observed 
the ways of men, will be apt to suspect that you are in 
the wrong. It should seem, therefore, that your bre- 
thren the analysts are but little obliged to you for 
this new method of declaiming in mathematics. Whe - 
ther they are more obliged by your reasoning I shall 
now examine. 

XXIII. You ask me (p. 32) where I find Sir Isaac 
Newton using such expressions as the velocities of velo- 
cities, the second, third, and fourth velocities, &c This 
you set forth as a pious fraud and unfair representation. 
I answer, that if according to Sir Isaac Newton a fluxion 
be the velocity of an increment, then according to him 

Analyst/ sect xviii. 



10 A pEPEKCE OP FRBB-THINK1NG, fcc. 

| may call the fluxion of * fluxion the velocity of a velo- 
city. But for the truth of the antecedent see his intra* 
duction to the Quadrature of Curves, where his own 
words are* " Motuum vel incrementorum volicitates no- 
jninando fluxiones." See also the second lemma of the 
second book of his Mathematical Principles of Natural 
Philosophy, where he expresseth himself in the following 
manner: "Velocitates incrementorum ac decrementorum 
quas etiam, motus, mutationes et fluxiones quantitatum 
nominare licet." And that he admits fluxions of flux- 
ions, or second, third, fourth fluxions, &c. see his Trea- 
tise of the Quadrature of Curves. I ask now, is it not 
plain, that if a fluxion be a velocity, then the fluxion of 
a fluxion may agreeably thereunto be called the velocity 
of a velocity ? In like manner if by a fluxion is meant 
a nascent augment, will it not then follow, that the flux- 
ion of a fluxion or second fluxion is the nascent aug- 
ment of a nascent augment ? Can any thing be plainer? 
X$t the reader now judge who is unfair. 

XXIV. I had observed, that the great author had 
proceeded illegitimately, in obtaining the fluxion or 
moment of the rectangle of two flowing quantities ; and 
that he did not fairly get rid of the rectangle of the 
moments. In answer to this you allege, that ttte error 
arising from the omission of such rectangle (allowing it 
to be an errom) i& so small that it is insignificant This 
you dwell upon and exemplify to no other purpose, but 
to amuse your reader and mislead him from the quea- 
tfoii ; which in truth is not concerning the accuracy of 
computing or measuring in practice, but concerning the 
aocu^acy of the reasoning, in science. That this was 
really the ca$e, and that thesmallness of the practical 
error r)Q,"wise concerns it, must be so plain to any one 
who reads the Analyst, that I wonder, how you co\Jd be 
ignorant of it 

XXV. You would fain persuade your reader that 
I make an absurd quarrel against errors of no signifi- 



A DEFENCE OF FKEfi- THINKING, &C. 17 

cancy in practice, and represent mathematicians as pro- 
ceeding blindfold in their approximations, in all which I 
cannot help thinking there is on your part either great 
ignorance or great disingenuity. If you mean to defend 
the reasonableness and use of approximations or of the 
method of indivisibles, I have nothing to say. But then 
you must remember this is not the doctrine of fluxions i 
it is none of that analysis with which I am concerned. 
That I am far from quarrelling at approximations in 
geometry, is manifest from the thirty-third and fifty- 
third queries in the Analyst. And that the method of 
fluxions pretends to somewhat more than the method 
of indivisibles is plain ; because Sir Isaac disclaims this 
method as not geometrical.* And that the method of 
fluxions is supposed accurate in geometrical rigour is 
manifest, to whoever considers what the great author 
writes about it ; especially in his introduction to the 
Quadrature of Curves, where he saith, " In rebus ma- 
thematicis errores quam minimi non sunt contemnendi." 
Which expression you have seen quoted in the Analyst, 
and yet you seem ignorant thereof, and indeed of the 
very end and design of the great author of this his in- 
vention of fluxions. 

XXVI. As oft as you talk of finite quantities in- 
considerable in practice, Sir Isaac disowns your apolo- 
gy. " Cave (saith he) intellexeris finitas." And although 
quantities less than sensible may be of no account in 
practice, yet none of your masters, nor will even you 
yourself, venture to say they are of no account in theory 
and in reasoning. The application in gross practice is 
not the point questioned, but the rigour and justness of 
the reasoning. And it is evident that, be the subject 
ever so little, or ever so inconsiderable, this doth not 
hinder but that a person treating thereof may commit 
very great errors in logic, which logical errors are in no 

• See the Scholium at the end of the Ant section* Lib. i. 
PhiL Nat. Prim Mtfh, 



18 A DEFENCE OF FBES-TH INKING, &C. 

wise tQ be measured by the sensible or practical incon- 
veniences thence arising, which, perchance, may be none 
at all. It must be owned, that after you have misled 
and amused your less-qualified reader (as you call him), 
you return to the real point in controversy, and set your- 
self to justify Sir Isaac's method of getting rid of the 
abovementioned rectangle. And here I must entreat 
the reader to observe how fairly you proceed. 

XXVII. First then you affirm (p. 44), "that nei- 
ther in the demonstration of the rule for finding the 
fluxion of the rectangle of two flowing quantities, nor 
in any thing preceding or following it, is any mention 
so much as once made of the increment of the rectangle 
of such flowing quantities." Now I affirm the direct 
contrary. For in the very passage by you quoted in 
this same page, from the first case of the second lemma 
of the second book of Sir Isaac's Principles, beginning 
with, " Rectangulum quodvis motu perpetuo auctum," 
and ending with* " igitur laterum increments totis a et 
b generator rectanguli incremen turn aBx b AQ.E. D" 
In this very passage I say is express mention made of 
the increment of such rectangle. As this is matter of 
fact, I refer it to the reader's own eyes. Of what rect- 
angle have we here the increment ? Is it not plainly of that 
whose sides have a and b for their incrementa tot a, that 
is, ofAB. Let any reader judge whether it be not 
plain from the words, the sense, and the context, that 
the great author in the end of his demonstration under- 
stands his incrementum as belonging to the rectanguhtm* 
quodvis at the beginning. Is not the same also evident 
from* the very lemma itself prefixed to the demonstra- 
tion ? The sense whereof is (as the author there ex- 
plains it), that if the moments of the flowing quanti- 
ties A and B are called a and b 9 then the momentum 
vel mutatio geniti rectanguli A B will be a Bub A. 
Either therefore the conclusion of the demonstration 
is not the thing which was to be demonstrated, or the 



A DEPXNCB OP PB&B-THJNKING, &C. 19 

rectanguH incrementum a Bib A belongs to the rect- 
angle A B. 

XXVIII. All this is so plain that nothing can be 
more so ; and yet you would fain perplex this plain case 
by distinguishing between an increment and a moment. 
But it is evident to every one, who has any notion of 
demonstration, that the incrementum in the conclusion 
must be the momentum in the lemma ; and to suppose 
it otherwise is no credit to the author. It is in effect 
supposing him to be one who did not know what he 
would demonstrate. But let us hear Sir Isaac's own 
words : " Earum (quantitatum scilicet fluentium) incre- 
menta vel decrementa momentanea sub nomine mo- 
mentorum intelligo." And you observe yourself that 
he useth the word moment to signify either an incre- 
ment or decrement. Hence with an intention to puzzle 
me you propose the increment and decrement of A B y 
and ask which of these I would call the moment ? The 
case you say is difficult. My answer is very plain and 
easy, to wit, either of them. You, indeed, make a dif- 
ferent answer, and from the author's saying, that by a 
moment he understands either a momentaneous incre- 
ment or decrement of the flowing quantities, you would 
have us conclude, by a very wonderful inference, that 
his moment is neither the increment nor decrement 
thereof. Would it not be as good an inference, because . 
a number is either odd or even, to conclude it is nei- 
ther ? Can any one make sense of this ? Or can even 
yourself hope that this will go down with the reader, how 
little soever qualified ? It must be owned, you endea- 
vour to intrude this inference on him, rather by mirth 
and humour than by reasoning. You are merry, I say, 
and (p. 46) represent the two mathematical quantities as 
pleading their rights, as tossing up cross and pile, as 
disputing amicably. You talk of their claiming prefer- 
ence, their agreeing, their boyishness, and their gravity. 
And after this ingenious digression you address me in 



20 A DEFENCE OF FREE-THINKING, &C, 

the following words-*-Believe me, there is no remedy, 
you must acquiesce. But my answer is, that I will nei- 
ther believe you nor acquiesce ; there is a plain remedy 
in common sense ; and that to prevent surprise I desire 
the reader always to keep the controverted point in view, 
to examine your reasons, and be cautious how he takes 
your word, but, most of all when you are positive, or 
eloquent, or merry. 

XXIX. A page or two after, you very candidly 
represent your case to be that of an ass between two 
bottles of hay : it is your own expression. The cause 
of your perplexity is that you know not, whether the 
velocity of A B increasing or of A B decreasing, is to 
be esteemed the fluxion, or proportional to the moment 
of the rectangle. My opinion, agreeably to what hath 
been premised, is that either may be deemed the fluxion. 
But you tell us (p. 49) " that you think, the venerable 
ghost of Sir Isaac Newton whispers you, the velocity you 
seek for is neither the one nor the other of these, but is 
the velocity which the flowing rectangle hath not while 
it is greater or less than A B, but at that very instant 
of time that it is A B. n For my part, in the rectangle 
A B considered simply in itself, without either increas- 
ing or diminishing, I can conceive np velocity at all. 
And if the reader is of my mind, he will Dot take either 
your word, or even the word of a ghost, how veftersblfe 
soever, for velocity without motion. You proceed and 
tell us that, in like manner, the moment of the rect- 
angle is neither its increment or decrement. This you 
would have us believe on the authority of his ghost, & 
direct opposition to what Sir Isaac himself asserted when 
alive. "Incrementa (saithhe)veldecrementamomentanear 
sub nomine momen tor um intelligo : ita ut incrementa pro 
momentis addititiis seu affirmativis, ac decrementa pit> 
subductitiis seu negativis habeantur."* I will not in yoqy , 
style bid the reader believe me, but believe his eyes/ 

XXX. To me it verily aeems, that you have under- 



A DEFBNCI OF FRB I THINKING, &C» 21 

taken the defence of what yon do not understand. To 
mend the matter, you say, " you do not consider A B 
as lying at either extremity of the moment, but as ex- 
tended to the middle of it ; as having acquired the one 
half of the moment, and as being about to acquire 
the other ; or, as having lost one half of it, and being 
about to lose the other." Now, in the name of truth, 
I entreat you to tell what this moment is, to the middle 
whereof the rectangle is extended ? This moment, I 
say, which is acquired, which is lost, which is cut in two, 
or distinguished into halves ? Is it a finite quantity, or an 
infinitesimal, or a mere limit, or nothing at all ? Take 
it in what sense you will, I cannot make your defence 
either consistent or intelligible. For if you take it in 
either of the two former senses, you contradict Sir Isaac 
Newton. And if you take it in either of the latter, you 
contradict common sense ; it being plain, that what hath 
no magnitude, or is no quantity, cannot be divided. And 
here I must entreat the reader to preserve his full free- 
dom of mind entire, and not weakly suffer his judgment 
to be overborne by your imagination and your prejudices, 
by great names and authorities, by ghosts and visions, 
and above all by that extreme satisfaction and compla- 
cency with which you utter your strange conceits ; if 
words without a meaning may be called so. After hav- 
ing given this unintellegible account, you ask with your 
accustomed air, " What say you, Sir ? Is this a just and 
legitimate reason for Sir Isaac's proceeding as he did ? 
I think you must acknowledge it to be so." But, alas ! 
I acknowledge no such thing. I find no sense or reason 
in what you say. Let the reader find it if he can. 

XXXI. In the next place (p. 50) you charge me 
with want of caution, " inasmuch (say you) as that 
quantity which Sir Isaac Newton, through his whole 
lemm^, and all the several cases of it, constantly calls a 
vumtnt, without confining it to be either an increment 
ot decrement, is by you inconsiderately and arbitra- 



22 A DEFENCE OF FRBB-THINKING, &C. 

rily, and without any shadow of reason given, supposed 
and determined to be an increment.** To which charge 
I reply, that it is as untrue as it is peremptory. For that, 
in the foregoing citation from the first case of Sir Isaac's 
lemma, he expressly determines it to be an increment. 
And as this particular instance or passage was that which 
I objected to, it was reasonable and proper for me to 
consider the moment in the same light. But take it in- 
crement or decrement as you will, the objections still lie 
and the difficulties are equally insuperable. You then 
proceed to extol the great author of the fluxionary me- 
thod, and to bestow some brusqueries upon those who 
unadvisedly dare to differ from him. To all which I 
shall give no answer. 

XXXII. Afterwards to remove (as you say) all scru- 
ple and difficulty about this affair, you observe that the 
moment of the rectangle determined by Sir Isa^c New- 
ton, and the increment of the rectangle determined by 
me, are perfectly and exactly equal, supposing a b to be 
diminished ad infinitum : and for proof of this, you refer 
to the first lemma of the first section of the first book 
of Sir Isaac's Principles. I answer that if a and b are 
real quantities, then a b is somethings, and consequently 
makes a real difference : but if they are nothing, then 
the rectangles whereof they are coefficients become 
nothing likewise : and consequently the momentum or 
incrementum, whether Sir Isaac s or mine, are in that 
case nothing at all. As for the abovementioned lemma, 
which you refer to, and which you wish I had consulted 
sooner, both for my own sake and for yours ; I tell you 
I had long since consulted and considered it. But I very 
much doubt whether you have sufficiently . considered 
that lemma, its demonstration, and its consequences. 
For, however that way of reasoning may do in the me- 
thod of exhaustions, where quantities less than assignable 
are regarded as nothing ; yet for a fiuxionist writing 
about momentums, to argue that quantities must be 



A DEFENCE OP FBtfE-TH INKING, &C. 23 

equal because they have no assignable difference, seems 
the most injudicious step that could be taken : it is di- 
rectly demolishing the very doctrine you would defend. 
For it will thence follow, that all homogeneous momen- 
tiims are equal, and consequently the velocities, muta- 
tions, or fluxions, proportional thereto, are ill likewise 
equal. There is, therefore, only one proportion of equal- 
ity throughout, which at once overthrows the whole sys- 
tem you undertake to defend. Your moments (I say) 
not being themselves assignable quantities, their differ- 
ences cannot be assignable : and if this be true, by that 
way of reasoning it will follow, they are all equal, upon 
which supposition you cannot make one step in the me- 
thod of fluxions. It appears from hence, how unjustly 
you blame me (p. 32) for omitting to give any account of 
that first section of the first book of the Principia, where- 
in you say the foundation of the method of fluxions is 
geometrically demonstrated and largely explained, and 
difficulties and objections against it are clearly solved. 
All which is so far from being true, that the very first 
and fundamental lemma of that section is incompatible 
with and subversive of the doctrine of fluxions. And, 
indeed, who sees not that a demonstration ad absurdam 
more veterum proceeding on a supposition, that every 
difference must be some given quantity, cannot be ad- 
mitted in, or consist with, a method, wherein quantities, 
less than any given, are supposed really to exist, and 
be capable of division ? 

XXXIII. The next point you undertake to defend is 
that method for obtaining a rule to find the fluxion of 
any power of a flowing quantity, which is delivered in 
his introduction to the Quadratures, and considered in 
the Analyst.* * And here the question between us is, 
whether I have rightly represented the sense of those 
words, evanescant jam augmenta ilia, in rendering them, 
let the increments vanish, i. e. let the increments be no- 

* Sect xiii, xi? , &c. 



24 A DEFENCE OP FREE-THINKING, &C. 

thing, or let there be no increments ? This you deny, 
but, as your manner is, instead of giving a reason you 
declaim. I, on the contrary affirm, the increments 
must be understood to be quite gone and absolutely 
nothing at all. My reason is, because without that 
supposition you can never bring the quantity or expres- 

sion n x + ox + &c. down to n x , 

the very thing aimed at by supposing the evanescence. 
Say whether this be not the truth of the case ? Whether 
the former expression is not to be reduced to the latter ? 
And whether this can possibly be done so long as o is 
supposed a real quantity ? I cannot indeed say you are 
scrupulous about your affirmations, and yet I believe that 
even you will not affirm this ; it being most evident, 
that the product of two real quantities is something real ; 
and that nothing real can be rejected either according to 
the a*u(5tia of geometry, or according to Sir Isaac's own 
Principles ; for the truth of which I appeal to all who 
know any thing of these matters. Further by evanes- 
cent must either be meant, let them (the increments) va- 
nish and become nothing, in the obvious sense, or else 
let them become infinitely smalL But that this latter is 
not Sir Isaac's sense is evident from his own words in 
the very same page, that is, in the last of his introduc- 
tion to the Quadratures, where he expressly saith " voliri 
ostendere quod in methodo fiuxionum non opus sit figu- 
res in finite parvas in geometriam introducere." Upon the 
whole, you seem to have considered this affair so very 
superficially, as greatly to confirm me in the opinion you 
are so angry with, to wit, that Sir Isaac's followers are 
much more eager in applying his method, than accu- 
rate in examining his principles. You raise a dust 
about evanescent augments, which may perhaps amuse 
and amaze your reader, but I am much mistaken if it 
ever instructs or enlightens him. For, to come to the 



A DEMtfCE OP FRBE-THINKING, &C. 85 

point, those evanescent augments either are red quanti- 
ties, or they are not. If you Say they are ; I desire to 
know, how you get rid of the rejectaneous quantity ? If 
you say they are not ; you indeed get rid of those quan- 
tities in the composition whereof they are coefficients ; 
but then you are of the same opinion with me, " which 
opinion you are pleased to call (p. 58) a most palpable, 
inexcusable, and unpardonable blunder, although it be a 
truth most palpably evident. 9 ' 

XXXIV. Nothing, I say, can be plainer to any im- 
partial reader, than that by the evanescence of augments, 
in the abovecited passage, Sir Isaac means their being 
actually reduced to nothing. But to put it out of all 
doubt, that this is the truth, and to convince even 
you, who shew so little disposition to be convinced, I 
desire you to look into his Analysis per ^Equationes Infi- 
nitas (p. 20), where, iq his preparation for demonstrat- 
ing the first rule for the squaring of simple curves, you 
will find that on a parallel occasion, speaking of an aug- 
ment which is supposed to vanish, he interprets the word 
evanescere by esse nihil. Nothing can be plainer than 
this, which at once destroys your defence. And yet, 
plain as it is, I despair of making you acknowledge it ; 
though I am sure you feel it, and the reader if he useth 
his eyes must see it. The words evanescere sive esse nihil 
do (to use your own expression) stare us in the face. 
Lo ! " This is what you call (p.^ 56) so great, so un- 
accountable, so horrid, so truly Boeotian a blunder,* 9 
that, according to you, it was not possible Sir Isaac 
Newton could be guilty of it. For the future, I advise 
you to be more sparing of hard words ; since, as you in- 
cautiously deal them about, they may chance to light on 
f your friends as well as your adversaries. As for my part, 
I shall not retaliate. It is sufficient to say you are mis- 
taken. But lean easily pardon your mistakes. Though, 
indeed, you tell me, on this very occasion, that I must 
vol. m. D 



26 A DRP8NCB. QF HRVMrHIKKIffCt, &C. 

expect no quarter from Sup Isaac s follower*. And I tell 
you that I neither expect nor desire any. My aim it 
truth. My reasons I have given. Confute them, if you 
can. But think not to overbear me either with autho- 
rities or harsh words. The latter will recoil upon your- 
selves : the former in a matter of science are of no weight 
with indifferent readers ; and, as for bigots, I am not con* 
cerned about what they say or think. 

XXXV. In the next place you proceed to declaim 
upon the following passage taken from the seventeenth 
section of the Analyst. " Considering the various, art? 
and devices used by the great author of the fluxionary 
method : in how many lights he placeth his fluxions ; 
and in what different ways he attempts, to demonstrate 
the same point : one would be inclined to think, he was 
himself suspicious of the justness: of his own demonstra* 
tknis." This passage you complain of as very hard usage 
of Sir Isaac Newton. You declaim copiously, and en- 
deavour to shew that, placing the same point in various 
lights is of great use to explain it ; which you illustrate 
witfi much rhetoric. But the fault of that passage is 
not the hard usage it contains : but, on the contrary, 
that it is too modest, and npt so full and expressive of 
my sense as perhaps it should have been. Would you 
like it better if I should, say, the various inconsistent 
accounts, which this great author gives, of his momen* 
turns and his fluxions, may convince, every intelligent 
reader that he had no clear and steady notion of them, 
without which there can be qo demonstration ? I own 
frankly, that I, see no clearness or, consistence in, them > 
You tell me, indeed, in Mtftonic verse, that the fault is 
in my own eyes, ' 

So thick a drop serene has queqph'd their orb* 
Or dim suffusion veil'd ; 

r 

at the same time you acknowledge yourself obliged for 
those various lights which have enabled you to under- 



A ©KFBNCR OF PBEE-Tl!IirXIH0, &C. 2? 

stand fan doctrine. But as forme who do not under- 
stand it, you insult me, saying, " For God's sake, 
what is it you are offended at, who do not still under- 
stand him ?" May not I answer, that I am offended for 
this very reason ; because I cannot understand him or 
make sense of what he says ? You say to me, that I am 
all in the dark. I acknowledge it, and entreat you who 
see so clearly to help me out. 

XXXVI. Youi Sir, with the bright eyes, be pleased 
to tell me, whether Sir Isaac's momentum be a finite 
quantity, or an infinitesimal, or a mere limit ? If you say 
a finite quantity ; be pleased to reconcile this with what 
he saith in the scholium of the second lemma of the 
first section of the first book of his Principles : " Cave in-* 
telligas quantitates magnitudine determinatas, sed cogita 
semper dimmuendas sine limite." If you say, an infinitesi- 
mal ; reconcile this with what is said in his introduction 
to the Quadratures : " Volui ostendere quod in methodo 
fluxionum non opus sit figuras infinite parvas in geome- 
triam inducere." If you should say, it is a mere limit ; be 
pleased to reconcile this with what we find in the first 
case of the second lemma in the second book of his 
Principles : " Ubi delateribus AekB deerant momento- 
rum dimidia," &c. where the moments are supposed to be 
divided. I should be very glad, a person of such a lumi- 
nous intellect would be so good as to explain, whether 
by fluxions we are to understand the nascent 1 or evanes- 
cent quantities themselves^ or their motions, or their ve- 
locities, or simply their proportions : and having inter- 
preted them in what sense you will, that you would then 
condescend to explain the doctrine of second, third, and 
fourth fluxions, and shew it to be consistent with com- 
mon sense if you can. You seem to be very sanguine 
when you express yourself in the following terms. * I 
do assure you, Sir, from my own experience, and that 
of many others whom I could name, that the doctrine 
may be dearly conceived and distinctly comprehended/ 9 

D2 



28 A DBPBNCB OF PBBB-THINK1NG, &C. 

(p. 3 1). And it may be uncivil not to believe what you so 
solemnly affirm, from your own experience. But I must 
needs own, I should be better satisfied of this, if, instead 
of entertaining us with your rhetoric, you would vouch- 
safe to reconcile those difficulties, and explain those ob- 
scure points abovementioned. If either you, or any one 
of those many whom you could name, will but explain 
to others what you so clearly conceive yourselves, I give 
you my word that several will be obliged to you who, I 
may venture to say, understand those matters no more 
than myself. But, if I am not much mistaken, you and 
your friends will modestly decline this task. 

XXXVII. I have long ago done what you so often 
exhort me to do, diligently read and considered the se- 
veral accounts of this doctrine given by the great author 
in different parts of his writings : and upon the whole 
I could never make it out to be consistent and intelli- 
gible. I was even led to say, " that one would be in~ 
clined to think, he was himself suspicious of the just- 
ness of his own demonstrations : and that he was not 
enough pleased with any one notion steadily to adhere 
to it." After which I added, " thus much is plain, that 
he owned himself satisfied concerning certain points, 
which nevertheless he could not undertake to demon- 
strate to others." (See the seventeenth section of the 
Analyst.) It is one thing when a doctrine is placed in 
various lights ; and another, when the principles and 
notions are shifted. When new devices are introduced 
and substituted for others, a doctrine instead of being 
illustrated may be explained away. Whether there be 
not something of this in the present case, I appeal to the 
writings of the great author. His Methodus Rationum 
Primarum et Ultimarum, his second lemma in the se- 
cond book of his Principles, his Introduction and Trea- 
tise of the Quadrature of Curves. In all which it ap- 
pears to me, there is not one uniform doctrineexplain- 
ed and carried throughout the whole, but rather sundry 



A DEFENCE OP PRE B- THINKING, &C. 39 

inconsistent accounts of this new method, which still 
grows more dark and confused the more it is handled : 
I could not help thinking, the greatest genius might lie 
pnder the influence of false principles ; and where the 
object and notions were exceeding obscure, he might 
possibly distrust even his own demonstrations. " At 
least thus much seemed plain, that Sir Isaac had some- 
time owned himself satisfied, where he could not de- 
monstrate to others. In proof whereof I mentioned his 
letter to Mr. Collins ; hereupon you tell me, there is 
a great deal of difference between saying, I cannot under- 
take to prove a thing, and I will not undertake it." 
But, in answer to this, I desire you will be pleased to 
consider, that I was not making a precise extract out of 
that letter, in which the very words of Sir Isaac should 
alone be inserted. But I made my own remark and in- 
ference, from what I remembered to have read in that 
letter ; where, speaking of a certain mathematical mat- 
ter, Sir Isaac expresseth himself in the following terms : 
" It is plain to me by the fountain I draw it from, 
though I will not undertake to prove it to others." 
Now whether my inference may not be fairly drawn 
from those words of Sir Isaac Newton ; and whether the 
difference as to the sense be so great between will and 
can in that particular case, I leave to be determined by 
the reader. 

XXXVIII. In the next paragraph you talk big but 
prove nothing. You speak of driving out of intrench- 
ments, of sallying and attacking and carrying by assault; 
of slight and untenable works, of a new-raised and un- 
disciplined militia, and of veteran regular troops. Need 
the reader be a mathematician to see the vanity of this 
paragraph ? After this you employ (p. 65) your usual 
colouring, and represent the great author of the Method 
of Fluxions " as a good old gentleman fast asleep, and 
snoring in his easy chair ; while dame Fortune is bring- 
ing turn her apron full of beautiful theorems and pro- 



30 A DRVENCB OP FREE-THINKING, &C. 

blems, which he never knows or thinks of." This you 
would have pass for a consequence of my notions. But 
I appeal to all those, who are ever so little knowing in 
such matters, whether there are not divers fountains of 
experiment, induction, and analogy, whenoe a man may 
derive and satisfy himself concerning the truth of many 
points in mathematics and mechanical philosophy, al- 
though the proofs thereof afforded by the modern ana- 
lysis should not amount to demonstration ? I further 
appeal to the conscience of all the most profound ma- 
thematicians, whether they can, with perfect acquies- 
cence of mind, free from all scruple, apply any propo- 
sition merely upon the strength of a demonstration 
involving second .or third fluxions, without the aid of 
any such experiment or analogy or collateral proof what- 
soever? Lastly, I appeal to the reader's own heart, 
whether he cannot clearly conceive a medium between 
being fast asleep and demonstrating ? But you will 
have it, that I represent Sir Isaac's conclusions as com- 
ing out right, because one error is compensated by an- 
other contrary and equal error, which perhaps he never 
knew himself nor thought of: that by a twofold mistake 
he arrives though not at science yet at truth : that he 
proceeds blindfold, &c. All which is untruly said by 
you, who have misapplied to Sir Isaac what was intended 
for the Marquis de l'Hospital and his followers, for no 
other end (as I can see) but that you may have an op- 
portunity, to draw that ingenious portraiture of Sir Isaac 
Newton and dame Fortune, as will be manifest to who- 
ever reads the Analyst 

XXXIX. You tell me (p. 70), if I think fit to per- 
sist in asserting, " that this affair of a double error is 
entirely a new discovery of my own, which Sir Isaac 
and his followers never knew nor thought of, that you 
have unquestionable evidence to convince me of the 
contrary, and that all his followers are already apprised, 
that this very objection of mine was long since foreseen, 



A BBFBNCB OP FREK-THINKWO, &C. SI 

and clearly and fully removed by Sir Isaac Newton in 
thfe iirst section of the first book of his Principia." All 
which I do as strongly deny as you affirm. And I do 
aver, that this is an unquestionable proof of the match- 
less contempt which you, Phiialethes, have for truth. 
And I do here publicly call upon you, to produce that 
evidence which you pretend to have, and to make good 
that fact which you so confidently affirm. And, at the 
same time, I do assure the reader, that you never will, 
nor can. 

XL. If you defend Sir Isaac's notions, as delivered 
in his Principia, it must be on the rigorous foot of re- 
jecting nothing, neither admitting nor casting away 
infinitely small quantities. If you defend the Marquis, 
whom you also style your master, it must be on the foot 
of admitting, that there are infinitesimals, that they may 
be rejected, thatx they are nevertheless real quantities, 
and themselves infinitely subdivisible. But you deem 
to have grown giddy with passion, and in the heat of 
controversy to have mistaken and forgot your part. I 
beseech you* Sir, to consider, that the Marquis (whom 
alone, and not Sir Isaac, this double error in finding the 
subtangent doth concern) rejects indeed infinitesimals, 
but not on the foot that you do, to wit, their being in- 
considerable in practical geometry or mixed mathema- 
tics* But he rejects them in the accuracy of specu- 
lative knowledge : in which respect there may be great 
logical errors, although there should be no sensible mis- 
take in practice i which, it seems, is What you cannot 
comprehend. He rejects them likewise in virtue of a 
postulatum, which I venture to call rejecting them 
without ceremony. And though he inferreth a con- 
clusion accurately true, yet he doth it, contrary to the 
rules of logic, from inaccurate and false premises. And 
how this comes about, I have at large explained in the 
Analyst, and shewed in that particular case df tangents, 
that the rejectaneous quantity might have been a finite 



32 A DBFBNCE OP FREE-THINKING, &C. 

quantity of any given magnitude, and yet the conclusion 
have come out exactly the same way ; and, consequently, 
that the truth of this method doth not depend on the 
reason assigned by the Marquis, to wit, the postulatum 
for throwing away infinitesimals, and therefore, that he 
and his followers acted blindfold, as not knowing the true 
reason for the conclusions coming out accurately right, 
which I shew to have been the effect of a double error. 
XLI. This is the truth of the matter, which you 
shatriefully misrepresent and declaim upon, to no sort 
of purpose but to amuse and mislead your reader. For 
which conduct of yours throughout your remarks, you 
will pardon me if I cannot otherwise account, than from 
a secret hope that the reader of your defence would 
never read the Analyst. If he doth, he cannot but see 
what an admirable method you take to defend your 
cause : how, instead of justifying the reasoning, the logic 
or the theory of the case specified, which is the real 
point, you discourse of sensible and practical errors : 
and how all this is a manifest imposition upon the 
reader. He must needs see that I have expressly said, 
" I have no controversy except only about your logic 
and method: that I consider how you demonstrate; 
what objects you are conversant about ; and whether 
you conceive them clearly? That I have often ex- 
pressed myself to the same effect, desiring the reader to 
remember, that I am only concerned about the way of 
coming at your theorems, whether it be legitimate or 
illegitimate, clear or obscure, scientific or tentative: 
that I have, on this very occasion, to prevent all possi- 
bility of mistake, repeated and insisted, that I consider 
the geometrical analyst as a logician, i. e. so far forth as 
he reasons and argues ; and his mathematical conclu- 
sions not in themselves but in their premises ; not as 
true or false, useful or insignificant, but as derived from 
such principles, and by such inferences."* You affirm 

• Analyst, sect. xx. 



A DEFBHCB OF FfiU-THINKINO, &C 33 

(and indeed what can you not affirm ?) that the differ- 
ence between the true subtangent and that found with- 
out any compensation is absolutely nothing at all. I pro- 
fess myself of a contrary opinion. My reason is, because 
nothing cannot be divided into parts. But this differ- 
ence is capable of being divided into any, or into more 
than any, given number of parts ; for the truth of which 
consult the Marquis de l'Hospital. And, be the error 
in fact or in practice ever so small, it will not thence 
follow, that the error in reasoning, which is what I am 
alone concerned about, is one whit the less, it being evi- 
dent, that a man may reason most absurdly about the 
minutest things. 

XLIL Pray answer me fairly, once for all, whether 
it be your opinion that whatsoever is little and incon- 
siderable enough to be rejected without inconvenience 
in practice, the same may in like manner be safely re- 
jected and overlooked in theory and demonstration. If 
you say no 9 it will then follow, that all you have been 
saying here and elsewhere, about yards and inches and 
decimal fractions, setting forth and insisting on the ex* 
treme smallness of the rejectaneous quantity, is quite 
foreign to the argument, and only a piece of skill to 
impose upon your reader. If you say yes, it follows 
that you then give up at once all the orders of fluxions 
and infinitesimal differences ; and so most imprudently 
turn all your sallies and attacks and veterans to your 
own overthrow. If the reader is of my mind, he will 
despair of ever seeing you get clear of this dilemma. 
The points in controversy have been so often and so 
distinctly noted in the Analyst, that I very much won- 
der how you could mistake if you had no mind to mis- 
take. It is very plain, if you are in earnest, that you 
neither understand me nor your masters. And what 
shall we think of other ordinary analysts, when it* shall 
be found that even you, who, like a champion step forth 
to defend their principles, have not considered them ? 



34 a asruroB op frke-thibtkuio, &c» 

XLIII. The impartial reader is entreated to remark 
throughout your whole performance how confident you 
are in asserting and withal how modest in proving 
or explaining : how frequent it is with you to employ 
figures and tropes instead of reasons : how many diffi- 
culties proposed in the Analyst are discreetly overlooked 
by you; and what 6trange work you make with the rest : 
how grossly you mistake and misrepresent and how 
little you practise the advice which you so liberally bes- 
tow. Believe me, sir, I had long and maturely consi- 
dered the principles of the modern analysis, before I 
ventured to publish my thoughts thereupon in the Ana- 
lyst. And, since the publication thereof, I have myself 
freely conversed with mathematicians of all ranks, and 
some of the ablest professors, as well as made it my bu- 
siness to be informed of the opinions of others, being 
very desirous to hear what could be said towards clear- 
ing my difficulties or answering my objections. But 
though you are not afraid or ashamed, to represent the 
analysts as very clear and uniform in their conception 
of these matters, yet I do solemnly affirm (and several 
of themselves know it to be true) that I found no har- 
mony or agreement among them, but the reverse there- 
of, the greatest dissonance and even contrariety of 
opinions, employed to explain what after all seemed in- 
plicable. 

XLIV. Some fly to proportions between nothings* 
Some reject quantities because infinitesimal. Others 
allow only finite quantities, and reject them because in- 
considerable. Others place the method of fluxions on 
a foot with that of exhaustions, and admit nothing new 
therein. Some maintain the clear conception of fluxions. 
Other* hold they can demonstrate about things incom- 
prehensible. Some would prove the algorism of flux- 
ions by reductio ad absurdutn ; others a priori. Some 
hold the evanescent increments to be real quantities, 
some to be nothings, some to be limits. As many men, 



A DBFBNCB OF FW-THINKIKCt, &C. &5 

bo many minds: each differing one from another, and 
all from Sir Isaac Newton. Some plead inaccurate ex- 
pressions in the great author, whereby they would draw 
him to speak their sense, not considering that if he 
meant as they do, he could not want words to express 
his meaning. Others are magisterial and positive, say 
they are satisfied, and that is all, not considering that 
we, who deny Sir Isaac Newton's authority, shall not 
submit to that of his disciples. Some insist, that the 
conclusions are true, and therefore the principles, not 
considering what hath been largely said in the Analyst* 
on that head. Lastly, several (and those none of the 
meanest) frankly owned the objections to be unanswer- 
able. All which I mention by way of antidote to your 
false colours : and that the unprejudiced inquirer after 
truth may see, it is not without foundation, that I call 
on tlie celebrated mathematicians of the present age to 
clear up these obscure analytics, and concur in giving 
to the public some consistent and intelligible account of 
their great master : which if they do not, I believe the 
world will take it for granted that they cannot. 

XLV. Having gone through your defence of the 
British mathematicians, I find, in the next place, that 
you attack me on a point of metaphysics, with what 
success the reader will determine. I had upon another 
occasion many years ago wrote against abstract general 
ideas, f In opposition to which, you declare yourself 
to adhere to the vulgar opinion, that neither geometry 
nor any other general science can subsist without ge- 
neral ideas (p. 74). This implies that I hold there are 
no general ideas. But I hold the direct contrary, that 
there are indeed general ideas, but not formed by ab- 
straction in the manner set forth by Mr. Locke. To 
me it is plain, there is no consistent idea, the likeness 

* Sect, xix, xx, frc. 

f Introduction to the Treatise concerning tbe Principles of Hu- 
man Knowledge. 



36 A DEFENCE OP FREE-THINKING, &C. 

whereof may not really exist: whatsoever therefore is 
said to be somewhat which cannot exist, the idea there- 
of must be inconsistent. Mr. Locke acknowledged 
it doth require pains and skill to form his general idea 
of a triangle. He farther expressly saith, it must be 
neither oblique nor rectangular, neither equilateral, nor 
scalenum ; but all and none of these at once. He also 
saith, it is an idea wherein some parts of several differ- 
ent and incufistent ideas are put together.* All this 
looks very like a contradiction. But, to put the matter 
past dispute, it must be noted, that he affirms it to be 
somewhat imperfect that cannot exist; consequently, 
the idea thereof is impossible or inconsistent. 

XLVT. I desire to know, whether it is not impos- 
sible for any thing to exist which doth not include a 
contradiction : and, if it is, whether we may not in- 
fer, that what cannot possibly exist, the same doth in- 
clude a contradiction : I further desire to know, whe- 
ther the reader can frame a distinct idea of any thing 
that includes a contradiction ? For my part, I cannot, 
nor consequently of the abovementioned triangle ; 
though you (who it seems know better than myself 
what I can do) are pleased to assure me of the contrary. 
Again, I ask, whether that, which it is above the power 
of man to form a complete • idea of, may not be called 
incomprehensible ? And whether the reader can frame 
a complete idea of this imperfect impossible triangle ? 
And, if not, whether it doth not follow, that it is in- 
comprehensible ? It should seem, that a distinct aggre- 
gate of a few consistent parts was nothing so difficult 
to conceive or impossible to exist ; and that, therefore, 
your comment mu6t be wide of the author's meaning. 
You give me to understand (p. 62) that this account 
of a general triangle was a trap which Mr. Locke set to 
catch fools. Who is caught therein let the reader judge. 

* Essay on Human Understanding,* b. iv. c. vii. §• ix. 



A DBPXNGB OF FHBE- THINKING, &C. 37 

XLVII. It is Mr. Locke's opinion, that every ge- 
neral name stands for a general abstract id$a, which 
prescinds from the species or individuals comprehended 
under it. Thus, for example, according to him, the 
general name colour stands for an idea, which is neither 
blue, red, green, nor any other particular colour, but 
somewhat distinct and abstracted from them all. To 
me it seems the word colour is only a more general 
name applicable to all and each of the particular colours : 
while the other specific names, as blue, red, green, and 
the like, are each restrained to a more limited sig- 
nification. The same may be said of the word triangle. 
Let the reader judge whether this be not the case ; and 
whether he can distinctly frame such an idea of colour 
as shall prescind from all the species thereof, or of a 
triangle which shall answer Mr. Locke's account, pre- 
scinding and abstracting from all the particular sorts of 
triangles, in the manner aforesaid. 

XLVIIL I entreat my reader to think. For, if he 
doth not, he may be under some influence from your con- 
fident and positive way of talking. But any one who 
thinks may, if I mistake not, plainly perceive that you 
are deluded, as it often happens, by mistaking the terms 
for ideas. Nothing is easier, than to define, in term*, of 
words that which is incomprehensible in idea, forasmuch 
as any words can be either separated or joined as you 
please, but ideas always cannot. It is as easy to say a 
round square as an oblong square, though the former 
be inconceivable. If the reader will but take a little 
care to distinguish between the definition and the idea, 
between words or expressions and the conceptions of 
the mind, he will judge of the truth of what I now ad- 
vance, and clearly perceive how far you are mistaken in 
attempting to illustrate Mr. Locke's doctrine, and where 
your mistake lies. Or, if the reader is minded to m$ke 
a short work, he needs only at once to try whether 
laying aside the words he can frame in his mind the 



38 A DEFENCE 09 FRBE-THIWKIXO, &C. 

idea ot an impossible triangle ; upon which trial the 
issue of this dispute ihay be fairly put. This doctrine 
of abstract general ideas seemed to me a capital error, 
productive of numberless difficulties and disputes, that 
runs not only throughout Mr. Locke's book, but 
through most parts of learning. Consequently, my ani- 
madversions thereupon were not an effect of being 
inclined to carp or cavil at a single passage, as you would 
wrongfully insinuate, but proceeded from a love ot 
truth, and a desire to banish, so far as in me lay, false 
principles and wrong ways of thinking, without re- 
spect of persons. And, indeed, though you and other 
party-men are violently attached to your respective mas- 
ters, yet I, who profess myself only attached to truth, 
see no reason why I may not as freely animadvert on 
Mr. Locke or Sir Isaac Newton, as they would on Ari- 
stotle or Descartes. Certainly the more extensive the 
influence of any error, and the greater the authority 
which supports it, the more it deserves to be considered 
and detected by sincere inquirers after knowledge. 

XLIX. In the close of your performance you let me 
understand, that your zeal for truth and the reputation 
of your masters have occasioned your reprehending me 
with the utmost freedom. And it must be owned you 
have shewn a singular talent therein. But I am com- 
forted under the severity of your reprehensions, when I 
consider the weakness of your arguments, which, were 
they as strong as your reproofs, could leave no doubt in 
the mind of the reader concerning the matters in dispute 
between us. As it is, I leave him to reflect and exa- 
mine by your light, how clearly he is enabled to conceive 
a fluxion, or the fluxion of a fluxion, a part infinitely 
small subdivided into an infinity of parts, a nascent or 
evanescent increment, that which is neither something 
nor nothing, a triangle formed in a point, velocity with- 
out motion, and the rest of those arcana of the modern 
analysis. To conclude, I had some thoughts of advising 



A DB1WO0 OF FREE-THINKING, &C. 30 

you how to conduqt yourself for the future, in return for 
the advice yon have so freely imparted to me: btat, as 
you think it becomes me rather to inform myself than 
instruct others, I shall, for my farther information, take 
leave to propose a few queries to those learned gentle- 
men of Cambridge, whom you associate with yourself, 
and represent as being equally surprised at the tendency 
of my Analyst. 

L. I desire to know, whether those who can neither 
demonstrate nor conceive the principles of the modern 
analysis, and yet give in to it, may not be justly said to 
have faith, and be styled believers of mysteries ? Whe- 
ther it is impossible to find among the physicians, me- 
chanical philosophers, mathematicians, and philomathe- 
maticians, of the present age, some such believers who yet 
deride Christians for their belief of mysteries. Whether 
with such men it is not a fair, reasonable, and legitimate 
method to use the argumentum ad kommem * And, being 
so, whether it ought to surprise either Christians or scho- 
lars ?- Whether in an age wherein so many pretenders to 
science attack the Christian religion, we may not be al- 
lowed to make reprisals, in order to shew, that the irre*- 
ligion of those men is not to be presumed an effect of 
deep and just thinking ? Whether an attempt to detect 
false reasonings, and remedy defects in mathematics, 
ought to be ill received by mathematicians ? Whether 
the introducing more easy methods and more intelligible 
principles in any science should be discountenanced ? 
Whether there may not be fair objections as well as ca- 
vils? And whether to inquire diligently into the mean- 
ing of terms and (lie proof of propositions* not except- 
ing against any thing without assigning a reason, nor af- 
fecting to mistake the signification of words, or stick at 
an expression where the sense was clear, but considering 
the subject in all lights, sincerely endeavouring to find 
out any sense or meaning whatsoever, candidly setting 
forth what seems obscure and what fallacious, and calling 



40 A DPPBHCS OP FRBE-THUTKING, &C. 

upon those, who profess the knowledge of such matters, 
to explain them, whether I say such a proceeding can 
be justly called cavilling ? Whether there be an ipse dixit 
erected ? And, if so, when, where, by whom, and upon 
what authority ? Whether even where authority was to 
take place, one might not hope the mathematics, at least, 
would be excepted ? Whether the chief end, in making 
mathematics so considerable a part of academical educa- 
tion, be not to form in the minds of young students ha- 
bits of just and exact reasoning ? And whether the study 
of abstruse and subtile matters can conduce to this end, 
unless they are well understood, examined, and sifted to 
the bottom ? Whether, therefore, the bringing geome- 
trical demonstrations to the severest test of reason 
should be reckoned a discouragement to the studies of 
any learned society ? Whether, to separate the clear parts 
of things from the obscure, to distinguish the real prin- 
ciples, whereon truths rest and whence they are derived, 
and to proportion the just measures of assent according 
to the various degrees of evidence, be a useless or un- 
worthy undertaking ? Whether the making more of an 
argument than it will bear, and placing it in an undue 
rank of evidence, be not the likely way to disparage it? 
Whether it may not be of some use, to provoke and 
stir up the learned professors to explain a part of mathe- 
matical learning, which is acknowledged to be most pro- 
found, difficult, and obscure, and at the same time set 
forth by Philalethes and many others, as the greatest in- 
stance that has ever been given of the extent of human 
abilities ? Whether, for the sake of a great man's disco- 
veries, we must adopt his errors ? Lastly, whether in an 
age wherein all other principles are canvassed with the 
utmost freedom, the principles of fluxions are to be 
alone excepted ? 



I • 



* 



AH 



APPENDIX 



COMCXRWIMG 



MR. WALTON* VINDICATION OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S 

PRINCIPLES OF FLUXIONS. 



< 

I. I had no sooner considered the performance of Phila- 
lethes, but Mr. Walton's Vindication of Fluxions was 
put into my hands. As this Dublin professor gleans after 
the Cantabrigian, only endeavouring to translate a few 
passages from Sir Isaac Newton's Principia, and enlarge 
on a hint or two of Philalethes, he deserves no particular 
notice. It may suffice to advertise the reader, that the 
foregoing Defence contains a full and explicit answer to 
Mr. Walton as he will find, if he thinks it worth. his 
pains to read what this gentleman hath written, and com- 
pare it therewith: particularly with sect. 18. 20. 30^ 
32 — 36. 43. It is not, I am sure, worth mine to repeat 
the same things, or confute the same notions twice 
over, in mere regard to a writer who hath copied even 
the manners of Philalethes, and whom in answering 
the other I have, if I am not much mistaken, sufficient- 
ly answered. 

II. Mr. Walton touches on the same points that 
the other had touched upon before him. He pursues a 
hint which the other had given,* about Sir Isaac's first 



vol. in. 



• Pftilalethts, p. 32. 

E 



42 AN APPENDIX, &C. 

section concerning the rationes prima et ultima. He 
discreetly avoids, like the other, to say one syllable of 
second, third, or fourth fluxions, and of divers other 
points mentioned in the Analyst, about all which I ob- 
serve in him a most prudent and profound silence. And 
yet he very modestly gives his reader to understand, 
that he is able to dear up all difficulties and objections 
that have ever been made (p. 5). Mr. Walton in the 
beginning, like Philalethes, from a particular case makes 
a general inference, supposing that infidelity to be im- 
puted to mathematicians in general, which I suppose 
only in the person to whom the Analyst was addressed, 
and certain other persons of the same mind with him. 
Whether this extraordinary way of reasoning be the 
cause or effect of his passion, I know not : but before I 
had got to the end of his Vindication, I ceased to be 
surprised at his logic and his temper in the beginning* 
Hie double error, which in the Analyst was plainly 
meant to belong to others, he with Philalethes (whose 
very oversights he adopts) supposeth to have been 
ascribed to Sir Isaac Newton (p. 36). And this writer 
also, as well as the Cantabrigian, must needs take upon 
him to explain the motive of my writing against fluxions: 
which .he gives out, with great assurance, to have been, 
because Sir Isaac Newton had presumed to interpose in 
prophecies and revelations, and to decide in religious 
affairs (p. 4), which is so far from being true, that, 00 
the contrary, I have a high value for those learned re- 
mains of that great man, whose original and free genius 
is an eternal reproach to that tribe of followers, who are 
always imitating but never resemble him. This speci- 
men of Mr. Walton's truth will be a warning to the 
reader to use his own eyes, and in obscure points never 
to trust the gentleman's candour, who dares to misre- 
present the plainest. 

III. I was thinking to have said no more concern- 
ing this author's performance, but lest he should ima- 



AM appendix, See. 48 

gint himself too much neglected, I entreat the reader 
to have the patience to peruse it ; and if he finds any 
one point of the doctrine of fluxions cleared up, or any 
one objection in the Analyst answered, or so much as 
Airly stated, let him then make his compliments to the 
author. But, if he can no more make sense of what 
this gentleman has written than I can, he will need no 
answer to it Nothing is easier than for a man to tran- 
slate or copy, or compose a plausible discourse of some 
pages in technical terms, whereby he shall make a show 
of saying somewhat, although neither the reader nor 
himself understand one tittle of it Whether this be 
the case of Mr. Walton, and whether he understands 
either Sir Isaac Newton, or me, or himself (whatever I 
may think), I shall not take upon me to say. But one 
thing I know, that many an unmeaning speech passeth 
far significant by the mere assurance of the speaker, till 
hecometh to be catechised upon Jt ; and then the truth 
aheweth itself. This vindicator, indeed, by his dissem- 
bling nine parte in ten of the difficulties proposed in the 
Analyst, sheweth no inclination to be catechised by me. 
But his scholars have a right to be informed. I there* 
fore recommend it to them, not to be imposed on 
by hard words and magisterial assertions, but carefully 
to pry into his sense, and sift his meaning, and parti* 
cularly to insist on a distinct answer to the following 
questions. 

IV. Let them ask him, whether he can conceive 
velocity without motion, or motion without extension, 
or extension without magnitude ? If he answers that 
he can, let him teach them to do the same. If he can* 
not, let him be asked, how he reconciles the idea of a 
fluxion which he gives (p. 18), with common sense ? 
Again, let him be asked, whether nothing be not the 
product of nothing multiplied by something ; and if 
so, when the difference between the gnomen and the 

b2 



44 AK. APPENDIX^ &C. 

sum of the rectangles 41 vanisheth, whether the rectan- 
gles themselves do not also vanish ? t. e. when a b is 
nothing, whether A b + B a be not also nothing i L e. 
whether the momentum of A B be not nothing ? Let 
him then be asked, what his momentums are good for* 
wl^en they are thus brought to nothing ? Again, I 
wish he \fere asked to explain the difference, between 
a magnitude infinitely small and a magnitude infinitely 
diminished. If he saith, there is no difference ; then 
let him be farther asked, how he dares to explain the 
method of fluxions, by the ratio of magnitudes infi- 
nitely diminished (p. 9), when Sir Isaac Newton hath 
expressly excluded all consideration of quantities infi- 
nitely small ?*f- If this able vindicator should say, that 
quantities infinitely diminished are nothing at all, and 
consequently that, according to him, the first and last 
ratios are proportions between nothings, let him - be 
desired to make sense of this, or explain what he means 
by proportion between nothings. If he should say, the 
ultimate proportions are the ratios of mere limits, then 
let him be asked how the limits of lines can be propor- 
tioned or divided ? After all, who knows but this gen* 
tleman, who hath already complained of me for an un- 
common way of treating mathematics and mathema* 
ticians (p. 5), may (as well as the Cantabrigian) cry out, 
Spain and the inquisition ! when he finds himself thus 
closely pursued and beset with interrogatories ? That 
we; may not, therefore, seem too hard on an innocent 
man, who probably meant nothing, but was betrayed 
by following another into difficulties and straits that he 
was not aware of, I shall propose one single expedient, 
by which his disciples (whom it most concerns) may 
soon satisfy themselves, whether this vindicator really 
understands what he takes upon him to vindicate. It 

• See Vindication, p. 17. 

t See his Introduction to the Quadratures. 



AN APPENDIX, &C. 45 

is, in short, that they would ask him to explain the 
second, third, or fourth fluxions upon his principles. 
Be this the touchstone of his vindication. If he can do 
it, I shall own myself much mistaken : if he cannot, it 
will be evident that he was much mistaken in himself, 
when he presumed to defend fluxions without so much 
as knowing what they are. So having put the merits 
of the cause on this issue, I leave him to be tried by his 
scholars. 



REASONS 



F*B VOT BBPLT1MO TO 



MR. WALTON'S FULL ANSWER, 



m a 



LETTER TO P. T. P. 



' : • f 



> t 



< . . i." 



r r 
, 21 \ 



! » 



* I 



REASONS, &c. 



I. X herb are some men that can neither give nor take 
ananswer, but writing merely for the sake of writing mul- 
tiply words to no purpose. There are also certain careless 
writers, that in defiance of common sense publish such 
things as, though they are not ashamed to utter, yet, 
other men may well be ashamed to answer. Whether 
there be any thing in Mr. Walton's method of vindi- 
cating fluxions, that might justify my taking no farther 
notice of him on the abovementioned considerations, I 
leave you and every other reader to judge. But those, 
Sir, are not the reasons I shall assign for not replying 
to Mr. Walton's full answer. The true reason is, that 
he seems at bottom a facetious man, who under the 
folourof an opponent writes on my side of the question, 
and really believes no more than I do of Sir Isaac New- 
ton's doctrine about Auctions, which he exposes, contra- 
dicts, and confutes, with great skill and. humour, under 
the mask of a grave vindication. 

II. At first I considered him in another light, as 
one who had good reason for keeping the beaten track, 
who had been used to dictate, who had terms of art at 
will, but was indeed at small trouble about putting 
them together, and perfectly easy about his reader's 
understanding them. It must be owned, in an age of 
so much ludicrous humour, it is not every one can at 
first sight discern a writer's real design. But, be a man's 
assertions ever so strong in favour of a doctrine, yet if 
his reasonings are directly levelled against it, whatever 
question there may be about the matter in dispute, there 



50 KBASONS FOR NOT REPLYING, &C. 

can be none about the intention of the writer. Should 
a person, so knowing and discreet as Mr. Walton, 
thwart and contradict Sir Isaac Newton under pretence 
of defending his fluxions, and should he at every turn 
say such uncouth things of these same fluxions, and 
place them in such odd lights as must set all men in 
their wits against them, could I hope for a better second 
in this cause ? Or could there remain any doubt of his 
being a disguised free-thinker in mathematics, who de- 
fended fluxions just as a certain free-thinker in religion 
did the rights of the Christian church. 

III. Mr. Walton indeed after his free manner call* 
my Analyst a libel. 9 But this ingenious gentleman 
well knows a bad vindication is the bitterest libel. Had 
you a mind, Sir, to betray and ridicule any cause under 
the notion of vindicating it, would you not think it the 
right way to be very strong and dogmatical in the affirm- 
ative, and very weak and puzzled in the argumentative 
parts of your performance ? To utter contradictions and 
paradoxes without remorse, and to be at no pains about 
reconciling or explaining them ? And with great good 
humour, to be at perpetual variance with yourself and 
the author you pretend to vindicate ? How successfully 
Mr. Walton hath practised these arts, and how much to 
the honour of the great client he would seem to take 
under his protection, I shall particularly examine 
throughout every article of his full answer* 

IV. First, then, saith Mr. Walton, " I am to be 
asked, whether I can conceive velocity without motion, 
or motion without extension, or extension without mag- 
nitude ?" To which he answereth in positive terms, 
that he can conceive velocity and motion in a point 
(p. 7). And to make out this, he undertakes to de- 
monstrate, " that if a thing be moved by an agent ope- 
rating continually by the same force, the velocity will not 
be the same in any two different points of the described 

* Vindication, p. 1. 



BJMLSONt FOR NOT REPLYING, &C* 51 

space. But that it must vary upon the least change of 
apace." Now admitting thus much to be demonstrated* 
yet I am still at a loss to conceive how Mr. Walton's 
conclusion will follow, to wit, " that I am greatly mis-> 
taken in imagining there can be no motion, no velocity, 
in a point of space. 9 * (P. 20.) Pray, Sir, consider his 
reasoning. The same velocity cannot be in two points 
of space ; therefore velocity can be in a point of space. 
Would it not be just as good reasoning to say, the same 
man cannot be in two nutshells ; therefore a man can be 
in a nutshell ? Again, velocity must vary upon the least 
change of space ; therefore there may be velocity with- 
out space. Make sense of this if you can. What have 
these consequences to do with their premises ? Who 
but Mr. Walton could have inferred them ? Or how 
could even he have inferred them had it not been in jest ? 
V. Suppose the centre of a falling body to describe 
a line, divide the time of its fall into equal parts, for in- 
stance, into minutes. The spaces described in those equal 
parts of time will be unequal. That is, from whatsoever 
points of the described line you measure a minute's de- 
scent, you will still find it a different space. This is true. 
But how or why from this plain truth a man should 
infer, that motion can be conceived in a point, is to me 
as obscure as any the most obscure mysteries that occur 
in this profound author. Let the reader make the best 
of it. For my part, I can as easily conceive Mr. Wal- 
ton should walk without stirring, as I can his idea of mo- 
tion without space. After all, the question was not 
whether motion could be proved to exist in a point, but 
only whether it could be conceived in a point. For, 
as to the proof of things impossible, some men have a 
way of proving that may equally prove any thing. But 
I much question whether any reader of common sense 
will undertake to conceive what this pleasant man at 
inference undertakes to prove. 

VI. If Mr. Walton really meant to defend the au- 



52 KEASONS *OR NOT REPLYING, &6. 

thor of the fluxionary method, would he notliave done 
it in a way consistent with this illustrious author's own 
principles t Let us now see what may be Sir Isaac's no- 
tion about this matter. He distinguisheth two sorts of 
notion, absolute and relative. The former he defineth 
to be a translation from absolute place to absolute place, 
the latter from one relative place to another.* Mr. 
Walton's is plainly neither of these sorts of motion. But 
some third kind, which, what it is, I am at a loss to com- 
prehend. But I can clearly comprehend that, if we ad- 
mit motion without space, then Sir Isaac Newton ? s ac- 
count of it must be wrong : for place by which he defines 
motion is, according to him, a part of space. And if so, 
then this notable defender hath cut out new work for 
himself to defend and explain. But about this, if I mis- 
take not, he will be very easy. For, as I said before, 
he seems at bottom a back friend to that great man ; 
which opinion you will see farther confirmed in the 
sequel. 

VII. I shall no more ask Mr. Walton to explain 
any thing : for I can honestly say, the more he ex- 
plains, the more I am puzzled. But I will ask his readers 
to explain, by what art a man may conceive motion 
without space. And supposing this to be done, in the 
second place to explain, how it consists with Sir Isaac 
Newton's account of motion. Is it not evident, that 
Mr. Walton hath deserted from his old master, and 
been at some pains to expose him, while he defends one 
part of his principles by overturning another? Let any 
reader tell me, what Mr. Walton means by motion, or, 
if he can guess, what this third kind is, which is neither 
absolute nor relative, which exists in a point, which may 
be conceived without space. This learned professer 
saith, ." J have tio clear conception of the princi- 
ples of motion." (P. 24.) And in another place (p. 7) 
he saith, " I might have conceived velocity in a point, 

* See Schol.def. viii.Philos. Nat. Pfincip. Math.' 



MASONS FOR -NOT REPLYING, &C. 6S 

if I bad understood and considered the nature of mo- 
tion." I believe I am not alone in not understanding his 
principles. For myself, I freely confess the case to be 
desperate. . I neither understand them, nor have any 
hopes of ever being able to understand them. 

VIIL Being now satisfied, that Mr. Walton's aim is 
not to clear up or defend Sir Isaac's principles, . but ra- 
ther to contradict and expose them, you will not, I sup* 
pose, think it strange, if instead of putting questions to 
this intrepid answerer, who is never at a loss, how often 
soever his readers may,, I entreat you, or any other man 
of plain sense, to read the following passage cited from 
the thirty-first section of the Analyst, and then try to 
apply Mr. Walton's answer to it: whereby you will 
clearly perceive what a vein of raillery that gentleman is 
master of. " Velocity necessarily implies both time and 
space, and cannot be conceived without them. And 
if the velocities of nascent or evanescent quantities, i. e. 
abstracted from time and space, may not be compre- 
hended, how can we comprehend and demonstrate their 
proportions ? Or consider their rationes prima? et idtinue f 
For to consider the proportion or ratio of things, im- 
plieth that such things have magnitude : that such their 
magnitudes may be measured, and their relations to each 
other known. But, as there is no measure of velocity 
except time and space, the proportion of velocities being 
only compounded of the direct proportion of the spaces 
and the reciprocal proportion of the times ; . doth it not 
follow, that to talk of investigating, obtaining, and con- 
sidering the proportions of velocities, exclusively of time 
and space, is to talk unintelligibly ?" Apply now, as I said, 
Mr. Walton's full answer, and you will soon find how 
fully you are enlightened about the nature of fluxions. 

IX. In the following article of Mr. Walton's full an- 
swer, he saith divers curious things, which being de- 
rived from this same principle* that motion may be con- 
ceived in a point, are altogether as\ incomprehensible as 



54 REASONS POH NOT ABPLTIHO, && 

the origin from whence they flow. It is obvious and 
natural to suppose ^ 6 and B a*to be rectangles pro- 
duced from finite lines multiplied by increments. Mr. 
Walton indeed supposeth that when die increments va- 
nish or become nothing, the velocities remain, which 
being multiplied by finite lines produce those rectangles 
(p. 13). But admitting the velocities to remain, yet 
how can any one conceive a rectangular surface to be 
produced from a line multiplied by velocity, otherwise 
than by supposing such line multiplied by a line or in- 
crement, which shall be exponent of or proportional to 
such veloctiy ? You may try to conceive it otherwise. I 
must own I cannot. Is not the increment of a rectan- 
gle itself a rectangle ? must not then A b and Babe 
rectangles ? and must not the coefficients or sides of 
rectangles be lines ? Consequently are not b and a lines or 
(which is the same thing) increments of lines ? These 
increments may indeed be considered as proportional to 
and exponents of velocity. Bqt exclusive of such expo- 
nents to talk of rectangles under lines and velocities is, I 
conceive, to talk unintelligibly. And yet this is what 
Mr. Walton doth, when he maketh b and a in the rect- 
angles Ab and B a to denote mere velocities. 

X. As to the question, whether nothing be not the 
product of nothing multiplied by something, Mr. Walton 
is pleased to answer in the affirmative. And nevertheless 
when a & is nothing, that is, when a and b are nothing, 
he denies that Ab + Ba is nothing. This is one of 
those many inconsistencies which I leave the reader to 
reconcile. But, saith Mr. Walton, the sides of the 
given rectangle still remain, which two sides according to 
him must form the increment of the flowing rectangle. 
But in this he directly contradicts Sir Isaac Newton, 
who asserts that A b + fi a and not^ + B is the incre- 
ment of the rectangle A B. And, indeed, how is it pos- 
sible a line should be the increment of a surface ? " Late* 

* See Nat. Phil. Priacip. Math. 1. iu tan.*. 



SEASONS FOB NOT REPLYING, &C. £5 

ram incrementi8 totis aetb generator rectanguli incre- 
mentumjib + Ba," are the words of Sir Isaac,* which 
words seem utterly inconsistent with Mr. Walton's doc- 
trine. But no wonder that gentleman should not agree 
with Sir Isaac, since he cannot agree even with himself; 
but contradicts what he saith elsewhere, as the reader 
may see, even before he gets to the end of that same sec* 
tion, wherein he hath told us that " the gnomen and the 
sum of the two rectangles, are turned into those two 
sides by a retroverted motion." (P- 11 and 12.) Which 
proposition, if you or any other person shall try to make 
sense of, you may possibly be convinced, that this pro- 
found author is as much at variance with common sense, 
as he is with himself and Sir Isaac Newton. 

XI* Mr. Walton in the ninth page of his Vindica- 
tion, in order to explain the nature of fluxions, saith, 
that " to obtain the last ratio of synchronal increments, 
the magnitude of those increments must be infinitely 
diminished." Notwithstanding which, in the twenty- 
third page of his full answer, he chargeth me as greatly 
mistaken, in supposing that he explained the doctrine of 
fluxions by the ratio of magnitudes infinitely diminished. 
It is an easy matter for any author to write so as to. be* 
tray his readers into mistakes about his meaning. Btit 
then it is not easy to conceive what right he hath to 
upbraid them with such their mistakes. If I have mis- 
taken his sense, let any one judge if he did not fairly 
lead me into the mistake. When a man puzzleth his 
reader, saith an unsaith, useth ambiguous terms and ob- 
scure terms, and putteth them together in so preserve 
a manner, that it is odds you can make oat no sense at 
all, or if any, wrong sense; pray who is in fault but the 
writer himself? Let any one consider Mr. Walton's 
own words, and then say whether I am not justified in 
making this remark. 

XII. In the twentieth, page of his full answer Mr. 

• Aid. 



56 SEASONS. FOB: NOT REPLYING, &C' 

Walton tells us, that " fluxions are measured by the 
first or last proportions of; isochronal increments gene*, 
rated or destroyed by motion." A little after he saith, 
these ratios subsist when the isochronal increments have, 
no magnitude. Now, I would fain know whether the 
isochronal increments themselves subsist when, they 
have no magnitude ? Whether by isochronal increments 
we are not to understand increments generated in/equal 
times ? Whether there can be an increment where there 
is no increase, or increase where there is no magnitude ? 
Whether if magnitudes are not generated in those equal 
times, what else is generated therein, or. what else is. it 
that Mr. Walton calls isochronal ? I ask the reader these 
questions. I dare not ask Mr. Walton. For, as I hint- 
ed before, the subject grows, still more obscure In pro* 
portipn as this able writer attempts to illustrate it. 

XIII. We are told (p. 22) " that the first or last 
ratio of the isochronal spaces hath a real existence; for* 
asmiich as it is equal to the ratio of. the two motions, 
of two points ; which motions, subsisting when the iso- 
chronal spaces are nothing ; preserve the existence of 
the first or last ratio of these spaces,, or keep it from 
being a ratio of nothings." In order to. assist your un- 
derstanding, it must not be omitted that the. said two 
points are supposed to exist at the same time in one' 
point, and to be moved different ways without stirring 
from that point. Mr. Walton hath the conscience to 
call this riddle a full and clear answer : to make sense of 
which you must suppose it one of his ironies. In the 
next and last article of his performance, you still find 
him proceed in the same vein of raillery upon fluxions* 
XIV. It will be allowed, that whoever seriously un- 
dertook to explain the second, third, and fourth fluxions 
of Sir Isaac Newton, would have done it in a way agree- 
able to that great man's own doctrine. What Sir Isaac's 
precise notion is I will not pretend to say. And yet I 
will venture to say, it is something that cannot be ex- 



BBASON8 FOR NOT REPLYING, &C. 5? 

plained - by the three dimensions of a cube. I frankly 
own, I do not understand Sir Isaac's doctrine so far as 
to frame a positive idea of his fluxions. I have, never- 
theless, a negative conception thereof, so far as to see 
that Mr. Walton is in jest, or (if in earnest) that he 
understands it no more than I do. 

XV. Sir Isaac tells us that he considers indetermi- 
nate quantities as flowing, or in other words, as increas- 
ing or decreasing by a perpetual' motion. Which quan- 
tities he denotes by the latter letters of the alphabet, and 
their fluxions or celerities of increasing by the same let- 
ters pointed over head, and the fluxions of fluxions or 
second fluxions, i. e. the mutations more or less swift of 
the first celerities by the same letters pointed with double 
points ; and the mutations of those mutations of the 
first mutations or fluxions or celerities of increasing*,' 
which he calls fluxions of fluxions of fluxions, or third 
fluxions, by three points ; the fourth fluxions by four 
points ; the fifth by five ; and so on.* Sir Isaac, you 
See, speaks of quantity in general. And in the Analyst 
the doctrine is exemplified and the case is put hi lines. 
Now in lines, where there is only one dimension, how 
are we enabled to conceive second, third, or fourth flux- 
ions, by conceiving the generation of three dimensions 
in a cube ? Let any one but read what Sir Isaac Newton 
or what I have said, and then apply what Mr. Walton 
hath written about the three dimensions of a cube, and 
see whether the difficulties are solved, or the doctrine 
made one whit the clearer by this explication. 

XVI. That you may the better judge of the merit of 
this part of Mr. Walton's performance, I shall beg leave 
to set down a passage or two from the Analyst. " As it 
is impossible to conceive velocity without time or space, 
without either finite length or finite duration, it must 

* See his Treatise De Quadrature Curvarum. 

VOL.' III. P 



68 Aft* 40114 TOB HOT BWLTIITO, &C 

fWm above the power of man to comprehend even thf 
first fluxions. And if the first are incomprehensible, 
what shall we say of the second and third fluxions, Sec. ? 
He who can conceive the beginning of a beginning of 
thie end of an end, somewhat before the first or after 
the last, may perhaps be iharp-sighted enough to con- 
ceive these things. But most men, I believe, will find 
it impossible to understand them in any sense whatso- 
ever v One would think that men could not speak too 
exactly on so nice a subject. And yet we may often ob- 
serve, that the exponents of fluxions or notes repre- 
senting fluxions are confounded with the fluxions 
themselves. ' Is not this the case, when just after the 
fluxions of flowing quantities were said to be the cele- 
rities of their increasing, and the second fluxions to be 
the mutations of the first fluxions or celerities, we are 






told that z. z. z. z. u z. represents a series of qvmntitiea 
whereof each subsequent quantity is the fluxion of the 
preceding, and each foregoing is a fluent quantity having 
the following one for its fluxion. Divers series of quan- 
tities and expressions geometrical and algebraical maty 
be easily conceived in lines, in surfaces, in species to be 
continue*! without end or limit. But it will not be found 
so easy to conceive a series, either of mere velocities or of 
mere nascent increments, distinct therefrom and cor- 
responding thereunto. "* Compare what is here said with 
Mr. Walton's genesis of a cube, and you will then clear- 
ly see how far this answerer is from explaining the nature 
of second, third, and fourth fluxions : and hpw justly I 
might repay that gentleman in kind, and tell him in hi* 
own language, that all his skill is vain and impertinent* 
Vind. p. 36. 

XVII. But it doth not become me to find fault with 

• Analyst, sect, xlir, xlv, xlri. 



MASONS FOB IfOT HEPLYINO, &C* 3fr 

this learned professor, who at bottom militates on my 
side, and in this very section makes it his business di- 
rectly to overthrow Sir Isaac Newton's doctrine. For 
he saith in plain terms, that there can be no .fourth flux- 
ion of a cube (p. 25), that is, there can be no second 
fluxion of a line, and a fortiori, no third, fourth, fifth*? 
&c. Insomuch, that with one single dash of his pen, 
Mr. Walton destroys, to the great relief of the learned 
world, an indefinite rank of fluxions of different orders 
that might have reached from pole to pole. I had dis- 
tinctly pointed out the difficulties in several parts both 
of my Analyst and Defence, and I leave you to judge 
whether he explains or even attempts to explain one of 
them. Instead thereof he tells us of the trine dimen- 
sion of a cube generated by motion : whence he takes 
occasion, as hath been observed, to explode Sir Isaac's , 
own doctrine, which is utterly inconsistent with Mr, 
Walton's. And can you now doubt the real design of 
this egregious vindicator ? 

XVIII. Before ever Sir Isaac Newton thought of 
his fluxions, every body knew there were three dimen- 
sions in a cube, and that a solid might be generated by 
the motion of a surface, a surface by the motion of a 
line, and a line by the motion of a point. And this in 
effect is all we know from Mr. Walton's explication. 
As for his dwelling so minutely on the genesis of the 
solid parts of a cube, a thing so foreign from the pur- 
pose, the only rational account I can give of it is, that 
Mr. Walton, by puzzling the imagination of his vulgar 
readers, hoped the better to disguise his betraying the 
doctrine of his great client, which to a discerning eye 
he manifestly gives up ; and instead thereof humor- 
ously substitutes, what all the world knew before Sir 
Isaac was born, to wit, the three dimensions of a cube 
and the genesis thereof by motion. 

XIX. Upon the whole, I appeal to you and. every 

p 2 



00 REASONS FOR MOT REPLY I NO, &C. 

intelligent reader, whether this thing, which Mr. Wal-: 
ton is pleased ironically to call a full answer, doth 
not carry throughout a sly insinuation, that the pro- . 
found science of fluxions cannot be maintained but by 
the help of most unintelligible paradoxes and inconsis- 
tencies. So far, indeed, as affirmations go he sheweth 
himself an able support of Sir Isaac Newton. But then 
in his reasonings he drops that great man upon the most 
important points, to wit, his doctrine of motion and 
his doctrine of fluxions, not regarding how far the de- 
monstration of his famous Principia is interested therein. 
To convince you still more and more of the truth here- 
of, do but reflect a little on Mr. Walton's conduct. 
Can you think it probable, that so learned and clear- 
headed a writer would have laid down such a direct re- 
pugnancy to common sense, as his idea of motion in 
a point, for the ground- work of his explanation, had it 
been his real intention to explain ? Or can you suppose 
he would have been absolutely silent, on so many points 
urged home, both in the Analyst and Defence, which it 
concerned' a vindicator of Sir Isa?c not to have over- 
looked ? Can you imagine, that if he meant seriously 
to defend the doctrine of fluxions, he would have con- 
tented himself with barely asserting that " Sir Isaac 
Newton in the introduction to his Quadrature of Curves, 
in the second lemma of the second book, and in the 
scholium to the first section of the first book of his Prin- 
ciples of Philosophy, hath delivered his doctrine of flux- 
ions in so clear and distinct a manner, without the least 
inconsistency in terms or arguments, that one would 
have thought it impossible for any person not to have 
understood him." P. 30. 

XX. Is it possible, I say, that Mr. Walton could 
in earnest hope we should take his bare word, as so 
much more credible than Sir Isaac's, and not rather have 
endeavoured to answer the questions, and reconcile the 



REASONS FOR NOT REPLYING, &C $1 

difficulties set forth in my Defence of Free^Thinkingi for 
instance, ih sect, xxxvi. Wherein I entreat my antago- 
nist to explain " whether Sir Isaac's momentum be a 
finite quantity or an infinitesimal or a mere limit, adding, 
if you say a finite quantity, be pleased to reconcile this * 
with what he saith in the scholium of the second lemma 
of the first section of the first book of his Principles : 
c Cave intelligas quantitates magnitudine determinates, 
sed cogita semper diminuendas sine limite.' If you say, an 
infinitesimal; reconcile this with what is said in his^in- 
troduction to the Quadratures : i Volui ostendere quod in 
methodo fluxionum non opus sit figuras infinite parvas in 
geometriam inducere/ If you should say, it is a mere li- 
mit, be pleased to reconcile this with what we find in 
the first case of the second lemma in the second book 
of his Principles : * Ubi de lateribus ^et B deerant mo- 
men torum dimidia,' &c, where the moments are supposed 
to be divided." I shall scarce' think it worth my while 
to bestow a serious thought on any writer who shall pre- 
tend to maintain Sir Isaac's doctrine, and yet leave this 
passage without a reply. And the reader, I believe, will 
think with me that, in answer to difficulties distinctly 
proposed and insisted on, to offer nothing but a magis- 
terial assertion is a mere grimace of one who made merry 
with fluxions, under the notion of defending them. And 
he will be farther confirmed in this way of thinking, 
when he observes that Mr. Walton hath not said one 
syllable in reply to those several sections of my Defence, 
. which I had particularly referred to, as containing a full 
answer to his Vindication. But it is no wonder if, with 
Sir Isaac's doctrine, he should drop also his own argu- 
ments in favour thereof. 

XXL I have been at the pains once for all to write 
this short comment on Mr. Walton, as the only way 
I could think of for making him intelligible, which will 
also serve as a key to his future writings on this subject. 



G$ MASONS FOR NOT REPLYING, &C. 

And I was the rather inclined to take this trouble, be- 
cause it seemeth to roe, there is no part of learning that 
wants to be cleared up more than this same doctrine of 
fluxions, which hath hitherto walked about in a mist 
to the stupefaction of the literari of the present age. 
To conclude, I accept this professor's recantation, nor 
am at all displeased at the ingenious method, he takes 
to disguise it Some zealous fluxionists may perhaps 
answer him. 



AN 



ESSAY 



TOWARDS 



PREVENTING THE RUIN OF GREAT BRITAIN. 



AN 



ESSAY, &c. 



Whether the prosperity that preceded, or the calami- 
ties that succeed the South-sea project have most contri- 
buted to our undoing, is not so clear a point as it is that 
we are actually undone, and lost to all sense of our true 
interest ; nothing less than this could render it pardona- 
ble, to have recourse to those old-fashioned trite max- 
ims concerning religion, industry, frugality, and public 
spirit, which are now forgotten, but if revived and put 
in practice, may not only prevent our final ruin, but 
also render us a more happy and flourishing people 
than ever. 

Religion hath in former days been cherished and 
reverenced by wise patriots and lawgivers, as knowing 
it to be impossible that a nation should thrive and flou- 
rish without virtue, or that virtue should subsist without 
conscience, or conscience without religion : insomuch 
that an atheist or infidel was looked on with abhorrence, 
and treated as an enemy to his country. But in these 
wiser times, a cold indifference for the national religion, 
and indeed for all matters of faith and Divine worship, 
is thought good sense. It is even become fashionable 
to decry religion ; and that little talent of ridicule is ap- 
plied to sqch wrong purposes, that a good Christian can 
hardly keep himself in countenance. 

Liberty is the greatest human blessing that a virtu- 
ous man can possess, and is very consistent with the 
duties of a good subject and a good Christian ; but the 
present age aboundeth with injudicious patrons of liber- 



66 AN ESSAY, &C. 

ty, who not distinguishing between that and licentious- 
ness, take the Surest method to discredit what they 
would seem to propagate; for, in effect, can there, be 
a greater affront offered to that just freedom of thought 
and action, which is the prerogative of a rational crea- 
ture, or can any thing recommend it less to honest 
minds, than under colour thereof to obtrude scurrility 
and profaneness on the world ? But it hath been always 
observed of weak men, that they know not how to avoid 
one extreme without running into another. 

Too many of this sort pass upon vulgar readers for 
great authors, and men of profound thought ; not on ac- 
count of any superiority either in sense or style, both 
which they possess in a very moderate degree, nor of 
any discoveries they have made in arts or science*, which 
they seem to be little acquainted with : but purely be- 
cause they flatter the passions of corrupt men, who are 
pleased to have the clamours of conscience silenced, and 
those great points of the Christian religion made sus- 
pected, which withheld them from any vices of pleasure 
and interest, or made them uneasy in the commission of 
them. 

In order to promote that laudable design of effacing 
all sense of religion from among us, they form then*- 
selves into assemblies, and proceed with united counsels 
and endeavours ; with what success, and with what 
merit towards the public, the effect too plainly shews;; 
I will not say, those gentlemen have formed a direct 
design to ruin their country, or that they have the seftse 
to see half the ill consequences, which must necessarily 
flow from the spreading of their opinions, but the na&xt 
feels them, and it is high time the legislature put a Stop 
to them. 

I am not for placing an invidious power in the hands 
of the clergy, or complying with the narrowness of any 
mistaken zealots, who should incline to persecute die* 
senters : but whatever conduct common sense as well 



AN ESSAY, &C. Gi 

as Christian charity obligeth us to use towards those 
who differ from us in some points of religion, .yet the 
public safety requireth, that the avowed contemners of 
all religion should be sererely chastised, and perhaps it 
may be no easy matter to assign a good reason why blas- 
phemy against God should not be inquired into, and 
punished with the same rigour as treason against the 
king. 

For though we may attempt to patch up our affairs, 
yet it will be to no purpose, the linger of God will un- 
ravel all our vain projects, and make them snares to 
draw us into greater calamities, if we do not reform 
that scandalous libertinism which (whatever some shal- 
low men may think) is our worst symptom, and the 
surest prognostic of our ruin. 

Industry is the natural sure way to wealth ; this is 
so true, that it is impossible an industrious free people 
should want the necessaries and comforts of life or 
an idle enjoy them under any form of government: 
Money is so far useful . to the public as it promoteth 
industry, and credit having the same effect is of the 
same value with money ; but money or credit circulating 
through a nation from hand to hand, without producing 
labour and industry in the inhabitants, is direct gaming. 

It is not impossible for cunning men to make such 
plausible schemes, as may draw those who are less skil- 
ful into their own and the public ruin. But surely, 
there is no man of sense and honesty but must see and 
own, whether he understands the game or not, that it 
is an evident folly for any people, instead of prosecuting 
the old honest methods of industry and frugality, to 
sit down to a public gaming-table, and play off their 
money one to another. 

The more methods there are in a state for acquiring 
riches without industry or merit, the less there will be j 
of either in that state: this is as evident as the ruin 
that attends it. Besides, when money is shifted from 



/ 



68 AN ESSAY, &C. ' 

hand to hand in such a blind fortuitous manner, that 
some men shall from nothing acquire in an instant 
vast estates, without the least desert ; while others are 
as suddenly stripped of plentiful fortunes, and left on 
the parish by their own avarice and credulity, what can 
be hoped for on the one hand, but abandoned luxury 
and wantonness, or on the othen, but extreme madness 
and despair ? 

In short, all projects for growing rich by sudden 
and extraordinary methods, as they operate violently on 
the passions of men, and encourage them to despise the 
slow moderate gains that are to be made by an honest 
industry, must be ruinous to the public, and even the 
winners themselves will at length be involved in the 
public ruin. 

It is an easy matter to contrive projects for the en- 
couragement of industry ; I wish it were as easy to per- 
suade men to put them in practice. There is no coun- 
try in Europe where there is so much charity collected 
for the poor, and none where it is so ill managed* If 
the poor-tax fixed was fixed at a medium in every parish, 
taken from a calculation of the last ten years, and raised 
for seven years by act of parliament, that sum (if the cbift- 
mon estimate be not very wrong), frugally and prudently 
laid out in workhouses, would for ever free the nation 
from the care of providing for the poor, and at the same 
time considerably improve our manufactures. We might 
by these means rid our streets of beggars, even the 
children, the maimed, and the blind, might be put in a 
way of doing something for their livelihood. As for 
the small number of those, who by age or infirmities 
are utterly incapable of all employment, they might be 
maintained by the labour of others ; and the public 
would receive no small advantage from the industry of 
those who are now so great a burden and expense to it. 

The same tax, continued three years longer, might 
be very usefully employed in making high roads, and 



AN ESSAY, &C. 69 

rendering rivers navigable, two things of so much pro- 
fit and ornament to a nation, that we seem the only 
people in Europe who have neglected them.* So that 
in the space of ten years the public may be for ever freed 
from a heavy tax, industry encouraged, commerce faci- 
litated, and the whole country improved, and all this 
only by a frugal honest management, without raising 
one penny extraordinary. 

The number of people is both means and motives 
to industry ; it should therefore be of great use to en- 
courage propagation, by allowing some reward or privi- 
lege to those who have a certain number of children ; 
and on the other hand, enacting that the public shall 
inherit half the unentailed estates of all who die unmar- 
ried of either sex. 

Besides the immediate end proposed by the fore- 
going methods, they furnish taxes upon passengers, and 
dead bachelors, which are in no sort grievous to the 
subject, and may be applied towards clearing the public 
debt, which, all mankind agree, highly concerneth the 
nation in general, both court and country. Cesar in- 
deed mentions it as a piece of policy, that he borrowed 
money from his officers to bestow it on the soldiers, 
which fixed both to his interest ; and though something 
like this may pass for skill at certain junctures in civil 
government, yet, if carried too far, it will prove a dan- 
gerous experiment. 

There is still room for invention or improvement in 
mos£ trades and manufactures, and it is probable, that 
premiums given on that account to ingenious artists, 
would soon be repaid a hundred fold to the public. 
No colour is so much worn in Italy, Spain, and Portugal, 
as black ; but our black cloth is neither so lasting, nor of 
so good a dye, as the Dutch, which is the reason of their 
engrossing the profit of that trade : this is so true, that 
I have known English merchants abroad wear black 

• Tbif was published before turnpikes were erected. 



70 AN ESSAY, &C. 

cloth of Holland themselves, and sell and recommend 
it as better than that of their own ctfuntry. It is com- 
monly said the water of Leyden hath a peculiar property 
for colouring black, but it hath been also said and passed 
current, that good glasses may be made no where but 
at Venice, and there only in the little island of Murano : 
which was attributed to some peculiar % property in the 
air ; and we may possibly find other opinions of that 
sort to be as groundless, should the legislature think it 
worth while to propose premiums in the foregoing, or 
m the like cases of general benefit to the public ; btit 
I remember to have seen, about seven years ago, a man 
pointed at in a coffee-house, who (they said) had first 
introduced the right scarlet dye among us, by which 
the nation in general, as well as many private persons, 
have since been great gainers, though he was himself a 
beggar, who, if this be true, deserved an honourable 
maintenance from the public. 

There are also several manufactures which we have 
from abroad, that may be carried on to as great perfec- 
tion here as elsewhere. If it be considered that more 
fine linen is worn in Great Britain than in any other 
country of Europe, it will be difficult to assign a reason 
why paper may not be made here as good, and in the 
same quantity, as in Holland, or France, or Genoa. 
This is a manufacture of great consumption, and would 
save much to the public. The like may be said of ta- 
pestry, lace, and other manufactures, which, if set on 
foot in cheap parts of the country, would employ many 
hands, and save money to the nation, as well as bring 
it from abroad. Projects for improving old manufac- 
tures, or setting up new ones, should not be despised 
in a trading country ; but the making them pretences for 
stockjobbing hath been a fatal imposition. 

As industry dependeth upon trade, and this, as well 
as the public security, upon our navigation, it concern- 
eth the legislature to provide, that the number of our 



ABT £SSAT, &C. 71 

tailors do not decrease, to which it would very much 
conduce, if a law were made prohibiting the payment of 
sailors in foreign parts ; for it is usual with those on 
board merchantmen as soon as they set foot on shore 
to receive their pay, which is soon spent in riotous liv- 
ing; and when they have emptied their pockets, the 
temptation of a pistole, present money, never faileth to 
draw them into any foreign service. To this (if I may 
credit the information I have had from some English, 
factors abroad) it is chiefly owing, that the Venetians, 
Spaniards, and others, have so many English on board 
their ships; some merchants indeed and masters of 
vessels may make a profit in defrauding those poor 
wretches, when they pay them in strange coin (which I 
have been assured often amounts to twelvepence in the 
crown), as well as in ridding themselves of the charge of 
keeping them when they sell their ships, or stay long 
in port, but the public lose both the money and the 
men ; who, if their arrears were to be cleared at home, 
would be sure to return, and spend them in their own 
country : it is a shame this abuse should not be re* 
medied. 

Frugality of manners is the nourishment and strength 
of bodies politic. It is that by which they grow and 
subsist, until they are corrupted by luxury ; the natural 
cause of their decay and ruin. Of this we have ex- 
amples in the Persians, Lacedemonians, and Romans : 
not to mention many later governments which have 
sprung up, continued awhile, and then perished by 
the same natural causes. . But these are, it seems, of 
no use to us ; and, in spite of them, we are in a fair 
way of becoming ourselves, another useless example to 
future ages. 

Men are apt to measure national prosperity by riches ; 
it would be righter to measure it by the use that is 
made of them. Where they promote an honest com- 
merce among men, and are motives to industry and vir- 



72 AN ESSAY, &C. 

tue, they are without doubt 1 of great' advantage; but 
where they are made (as too often happens) an instru-» 
ment to luxury, they enervate and dispirit the bravest 
people. So just is that remark of Machiavel, that there 
is. no truth in the common saying, money is the nerves 
of war ; and though we may subsist tolerably for a time 
among corrupt neighbours, yet if ever we have to do 
^ith a hardy, temperate, religious sort of men, we shaH 
fijid, to our cost, that all our riches are but a poor ex- 
change for that simplicity of manners which we despise 
in our ancestors. This sole advantage hath been the 
main support of all the republics that have made a 
figure in the world ; and perhaps, it might be no ill- 
policy in a kingdom to form itself upon the manners 
of a republic 

Simplicity of manners may be more easily preserved 
in a republic than a monarchy ; but if once lost, may be' 
sooner recovered in a monarchy, the example of a court 
being of great efficacy, either to reform or to corrupt a 
people ; that alone were sufficient to discountenance the 
wearing of gold or silver, either in clothes or equipage, 
and if the same were prohibited by law, the saving so 
much bullion would be the smallest benefit of such an 
institution ; there being nothing more apt to debase the 
virtue and good sense of our gentry of both sexes, than 
the trifling vanity of apparel, which we have learned 
from France, and which hath had such visible ill conse- 
quences on the genius of that people. Wiser nations - 
have made it their care to shut out this folly by severe 
laws and penalties, and its spreading among us can fore- 
bode no good, if there be any truth in the observation of 
one of the ancients, that the direct way to ruin a man 
is to dress him up in fine clothes. 

It cannot be denied that luxury of dress giveth a 
light behaviour to our women, which may pass for a 
small offence, because it is a common one, but is in 
truth the source of great corruptions. For this very 



AN ESSAY, &C. 73 

• 

offence the prophet Isaiah denounced a severe judgment 
against the ladies of his time. I shall give the passage 
at length ; " Moreover, the Lord saith, Because the 
daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched 
forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as 
they S°y an d making a tinkling with their feet ; there- 
fore the Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the 
head of the daughters of Zion, and the Lord will dis- 
cover their secret parts. In that day the Lord will take 
away the bravery of their tinkling ornaments about their 
feet, and their cauls and their round tires like the moon, 
the chains, and the bracelets, and the mufflers, the 
.bonnets, and the ornaments of the legs, and the head- 
hands, and the tablets, and the ear-rings, the rings and 
gope-jewels, the changeable suits of apparel, and the 
mantles, and the wimples, and the crisping- pins, the 
glasses, and the fine linen, and the hoods and the vails. 
And it shall come to pass that, instead of a sweet smell 
there shall be stink ; and instead of a girdle a rent ; and 
instead of well-set hair, baldness ; and instead of a sto- 
macher, a girding of sackcloth ; and burning instead 
of beauty." The scab, the stench, and the burning, are 
terrible pestilential symptoms, and our ladies would do 
well to consider, they may chance to resemble those of 
Zion, in their punishment as well as their offence. 

But dress ' is not the only thing to be reformed, 
sumptuary laws are useful in many other points. In 
former times the natural plainness and good sense of the 
English made them less necessary. But ever since the 
luxurious reign of King Charles }Jie Second, we have 
been doing violence to our natures, and are by this 
time so much altered for the worse, that it is to be 
feared, the very same dispositions that make them ne- 
cessary, will for ever hinder them from being enacted 
or put in execution. 

A private family in difficult circumstances, all men 
igree, ought to melt down their plate, walk on foot, 

VOL. III. G 



74 AN ESSAY, &C. 

retrench the number of their servants, wear neither 
jewels nor rich clothes, and deny themselves expensive 
diversions ; and why not the public ? Had any thing 
like this been done, our taxes had been less, or, which 
is the same thing, we should have felt them less. But 
it is very remarkable, that luxury was never at so great 
a height, nor spread so generally through the nation, as 
during the expense of the late wars,* and the heavy debt 
that still lieth upon us. 

This vice draweth after it a train of evils which 
cruelly infest the public ; faction, ambition, envy, ava- 
rice, and that of the worst kind, being much more hurt- 
ful in its consequences, though not so infamous as 
penury. It was the great art of Cardinal Richelieu, by 
encouraging luxury and expense to impoverish the 
French nobility, and render them altogether dependent 
on the crown, which hath been since very successfully 
effected. These and many more considerations shew 
the necessity there is for sumptuary laws, nor can any 
thing be said against them in this island, which might 
not with equal force be objected in other countries, 
which have nevertheless judged the public benefit of 
. such institutions, to be of far greater importance than 
the short sufferings of a few, who subsist by the luxury 
of others. 

It is evident, that old taxes may be better borne, as 
well as new ones raised, by sumptuary laws judiciously 
framed, not to damage our trade, but retrench our lux- 
ury. It is evident that, for want of these, luxury (which, 
like the other fashions, never faileth to descend) hath 
infected all ranks of people, and that this enableth the 
Dutch and French to undersell us, to the great preju- 
dice of our traffic. We cannot but know that in our 
present circumstances, it should be our care, as it is our 
interest, to make poverty tolerable ; in short, we have 
the experience of many ages to convince us, that a cor- 
rupt luxurious people must of themselves fall into 



AN ESSAY, &C. , 75 

slatray, although no attempt be made upon them. These 
and; the like obvious reflections should, one would think, 
have filmed any people in their senses upon frugal 
measures. 

. But we are doomed to be undone. Neither the plain 
reaspn of the thing, nor the experience of past ages, nor 
the examples we have before our eyes, can restrain us 
feoro imitating, not to say surpassing, the most corrupt 

. and ruined people, in those very points of luxury that 
ruined them. Our gaming, our operas, our masquer- 
ades, are, in spite of bur debts and poverty, become the 
wonder of our neighbours. If there be any man so void 
of all thought and common sense, as not to see where 
this must end, let him but compare what Venice was at 
the league of Cambray, with what it is at present, and 
he wilt be convinced, how truly those fashionable pas- 
times are calculated to depress and ruin a nation. ' 

But neither Venice nor Paris, nor any other town in 
any part of the world, ever knew such an expensive 
ruinous folly as our masquerade. This alone is sufficient 
to inflame and satisfy the several, appetites for gaming, 
dressing, intriguing, and luxurious eating and drinking. 
It is a most skilful abridgment, the very quintessence, 
the abstract of all those senseless vanities that have ever 
been the ruin of fools and detestation of wise men. And 
alLthis under the notion of an elegant entertainment, hath 
been admitted among us ; though it be in truth a con- 
tagion of the worst kind. The plague, dreadful as it is, 
is an evil of short duration ; cities have often recovered 
and flourished after it ; but when was it known that a 
people broken and corrupt by luxury recovered them- 

, selves ? Not to say, that general corruption of manners 
never faileth to draw after it some heavy judgment of 
war, famine, or pestilence. Of this we have a fresh in- 
stance in one of the most debauched towns of Europe,* 
and nobody knows how soon it may be our own case. 

* Marseilles. 
g 2 



76 AM ESSAY, &C. 

This elegant entertainment is indeed suspended for the 
present, but there remains so strong a propension to* 
wards it, that, if the wisdom, of the legislature does not 
interpose, it will soon return with the additional tempta- 
tion of having been forbid for a time. It were stupid 
and barbarous to declaim against keeping up the spirit 
of the people by proper diversions, but then they should 
be proper, such as polish and improve their minds, or 
increase the strength and activity of their bodies ; none 
of which ends are answered by the masquerade, no more 
than by those French and Italian follies, which, to our 
shame, are imported and encouraged at a time, when 
the nation ought to be too grave for such trifles. 

Itisnot tobe believed, what influence public diversions 
have on the spirit and manners of a people. The Greeks 
wisely saw this, and made a very serious affair of their 
public sports. For the same reason it will perhaps seem 
worthy the care of our legislature, to regulate the public 
diversions, by an absolute prohibition of those which 
have a direct tendency to corrupt our morals, as well as by 
a reformation of the drama : which, when rightly ma* 
raged, is such a noble entertainment, and gave those 
fine lessons of morality and good sense to the Athenians 
of old, and to our British gentry above a century ago; 
but for these last ninety years hath entertained us, for 
the most part, with such wretched things as spoil, in* 
stead of improving the taste and manners of the audi- 
ence. Those who are attentive to such propositions only 
as may fill their pockets, will probably slight these things 
as trifles below the care of the legislature. But I am 
sure, all honest thinking men must lament to see their 
country run headlong into all those luxurious follies, 
which, it is evident, have been fatal to other nations, and 
will undoubtedly prove fatal to us also, if a timely stop 
be not put to them. 

Public spirit, that glorious principle of all that is 
great and good, is so far from being cherished or en- 



AN ESSAY, &C. 77 

couraged, that it is become ridiculous in this enlightened 
age, which is taught to laugh at every thing that is seri- 
ous as well as sacred. The same atheistical narrow spirit, 
centeringall our cares upon private interest, and contract- 
ing all our hopes within the enjoyment of this present 
life, equally produceth a neglect of what we owe to God 
and our country, Tully hath long since observed, " that 
it is impossible for those, who have no belief of the im- 
mortality of the soul, or a future state of rewards and 
punishments, to sacrifice their particular interests and 
passions to the public good, or have a generous concern 
for posterity," and our own experience confirmeth the 
truth of this observation. 

In order therefore to recover a sense of public spirit, 
it is to be wished that men were first affected with a 
true 6ense of religion ; pro arts etfocis, having ever been 
the great motive to courage and perseverance in a public 
cause. 

It would likewise be a very useful policy, and war- 
ranted by the example of the wisest governments, to 
make the natural love of fame and reputation subser- 
vient to promoting that noble principle. Triumphal 
arches, columns, statues, inscriptions, and the like mo- 
numents of public services, have in former times been 
found great incentives to virtue, and magnanimity, and 
would probably have the same effects on Englishmen 
which they have had on Greeks and Romans. And 
perhaps, a pillar of infamy would be found a proper and 
exemplary punishment in cases of signal public villany, 
where the loss of fortune, liberty, or life, are not pro- 
portioned to the crime ; or, where the skill of the of- 
fender, or the nature of his offence, may screen him from 
the letter of the law. 

Several of these are to be seen at Genoa, Milan, and 
other towns of Italy, where it is the custom to demolish 
the house of a citizen, who hath conspired the ruin of 
his country, or been guilty of any enormous crime to- 



78 AN B6IAY, &C. 

wardrf the public, and in place thereof to etect a monu- 
ment of the crime, and criminal described, ill the blackest 
manner. We have nothing of this sort, thtt I know, 
but that which is commonly called the monutifienC, which 
in the last age was erected for art affair nb way more 
atrocious than the modern unexampled attempt* of mefa 
easy in their fortunes, add unprovoked by hardships of 
any sort, in cool blood, and with open eyes to ruin their 
native country. This fact will never be forgotten, and 
it were to be wished that with it the public detefttfetion 
thereof may be transmitted to posterity, which would 
in some measure vindicate the honour of the present, 
and be a useful lesson to future ages. 

Those noble arts of architecture, sculpture, and 
painting, do not only adorn the public, but have Also 
an influence on the minds and manners of men, fitting 
them with great ideas, and spiriting (hem tip to an emu- 
lation of worthy actions. For this cause they were cul- 
tivated and encouraged by the Greek cities, who vied 
with each other in building and adorning their temples, 
theatres, porticos, and the like public works, at the sfime 
time that they discouraged private luxury ; the very 
reverse of our conduct. 

To propose the building a parliament house, courts 
of justice, royal palace, and other public edifices, suit- 
able to the dignity of the nation, and adorning them 
with paintings and statues, which may transmit memo- 
rable things and persons to posterity, would probably be 
laughed at as a vain affair, of great expense, and little 
use to the public ; and it must be owned, we have re- 
duced ourselves to such straits, that any proposition of 
expense suiteth ill with our present circumstances. But 
how proper soever this proposal may be for the tf toes, 
yet it comes so properly into a discourse of public spi- 
rit, that I could not but say something of it. And'at 
another time it will not seem unreasonable, if we o6nsi~ 

* The South-sea project. 



AN ESSAY, &C. 79 

der that it is no more than the wisest nations have done 
before us, that it would spirit up new arts, employ many 
hands, keep the money circulating at home, and, lastly, 
that it would be a notable instance of public spirit, as 
well as a motive to it 

The same noble principle may be also encouraged 
by erecting an academy of ingenious men, whose em- 
ployment it would be to compile the history of Great 
Britain, to make discourses proper to inspire men with 
a zeal for the public, and celebrate the jnemory of those 
who have been ornaments to the nation, or done it emi- 
nent service. Not to mention that this would improve 
our language, and amuse some busy spirits of the age ; 
which perhaps would be no ill policy. 

This is not without example ; for to say nothing of 
•the French academy, which is prostituted to meaner 
purposes, it hath been the custom of the Venetian se- 
nate, to appoint one of their order to continue the history 
of the republic. This was introduced in the flourishing 
state of that people, and is still in force. We fall short 
of other nations in the number of good historians, 
though no nation in Christendom hath produced greater 
events, or more worthy to be recorded. The Athenian 
senate appointed orators to commemorate annually, 
those who died in defence of their country, which so- 
lemnity was performed at their monuments erected in 
honour of them by the public ; and the panegyrics, com* 
posed by Isocrates and Pericles, as well as many passages 
in Tully, inform us with what pleasure the ancient ora- 
tors used to expatiate in praise of their country. 

Concord and union among ourselves is rather to be 
hoped for as an effect of public spirit than proposed 
as a mean? to promote it. Candid generous men, who 
are true lovers of their country, can never be enemies 
to one half of their countrymen, or carry their resent- 
ments so far as to ruin the public for the sake of a party. 
Now I have fallen upon the mention of our parties, I 



80 AN ESSAY, &C. 

shall beg leave to insert a remark or two, for the service 
. both of whig and tory, without entering into their re- 
spective merits. First, it is impossible for either party 
to ruin the other, without involving themselves and their 
posterity in the same ruin. Secondly, it is very feasible 
for either party to get the better of the other, if they 
could first get the better of themselves ; and, instead of 
indulging the little womanish passions of obstinacy, re- 
sentment, and revenge, steadily promote the true in- 
terest of their country, in those great clear points of 
piety, industry, sobriety of manners, and an honest re- 
gard for posterity ; which, all men of sense agree, are 
essential to public happiness. There would be some- 
thing so great and good in this conduct, as must neces- 
sarily overbear all calumny and opposition. But that 
men should act reasonably is rather to be wished than 
hoped. 

I am well aware, that to talk of public spirit, and the 
means of retrieving it, must, to narrow sordid minds, 
be matter of jest and ridicule, how conformable soever 
it be to right reason, and the maxims of antiquity. 
Though one would think, the most selfish men might 
see it was their interest to encourage a spirit in others, 
by which they, to be sure, must'be gainers. Yet such 
are the corruption and folly of the present age, that a 
public spirit is treated like ignorance of the world, and 
want of sense ; and all the respect is paid to cunning 
men, who bend and wrest the public interest to their 
own private ends, that in other times hath been thought 
due to those who were generous enough to sacrifice 
their private interest to that of their country. 

Such practices and such maxims as these must neces- 
sarily ruin a state. But if the contrary should prevail, 
we may hope to see men in power prefer the public 
wealth and security to their own, and men of money 
make free gifts, or lend it without interest, to their coun- 
try. This, how strange and incredible soever it may 



AN £89 AY, &C. jfrl 

seem to us, hath been often done in other states. And 
the natural English temper considered, together with 
the force of example, no one can tell how for a pro- 
posal for a free gift may go among the moriied men, 
when set on foot by the legislature, and encouraged by 
two or three men of figure, who have the spirit to do a 
generous thing, and the understanding to see it is every 
private man's interest to support that of the public. 

If they who have their fortunes in money should 
make a voluntary gift, the public would be eased, and 
at the same time maintain its credit. Nor is a generous 
love of their country the only motive that should induce 
them to this. Common equity requires, that all sub* 
jects should equally share the public burden ; and 
common sense shews, that those who are foremost in 
the danger, should not be the most backward in contri- 
buting to prevent it. 

Before I leave this subject, I cannot but take notice 
of that most infamous practice of bribery, than which 
nothing can be more opposite to public spirit, since 
every one who takes a bribe plainly owns, that he prefers 
his private interest to that of his country. Thi6 cor- 
ruption is become a national crime, having infected the 
lowest as well as the highest among us, and is so general 
and notorious, that, as it cannot be matched in former 
ages, so it is to be hoped it will not be imitated by 
posterity. 

This calls to mind another national guilt, which we 
possess in a very eminent degree ; there being no na- 
tion under the sun, where solemn perjury is so common, 
or where there are such, temptations to it. The making 
men swear so often in their own case, and where they 
have an interest to conceal the truth, hath gradually 
worn off that awful respect which was once thought due 
to an appeal to Almighty God ; insomuch, that men 
now-a-days break their fast and a custom-house oath 
with the same peace of mind. It is a policy peculiar to 



82 



AJ* R68AY, &C. 



tis, the obliging men to perjure or betray tij^mselves, 
and hath had no one good effect, but many very ijl 
ones. Sure I am, that other nations, without the hun- 
dredth part of our swearing, contrive to do their busi- 
ness at least as well as we do. And perhaps our legis- 
lature will think it proper to follow their example. For 
whatever measures are taken, so long as we lie under 
such a load of guilt, as national perjury and national 
bribery, it is impossible we can prosper. 

This poor nation hath sorely smarted of late, and to 
ease the present smart, a sudden remedy (as is usual ip 
such cases) hath been thought of. But we must be- 
ware not to mistake an anodyne for a cure. Where 
the vitals are touched, and the whole mass of humpurs 
vitiated, it is not enough to ease the part pained, we 
must look farther, and apply general correctives ;, other- 
wise the ill humour may soon shew itself in some other 
part. 

The South-sea affair, how sensible soever, is not the 
original evil, or the great source of our misfortunes ; it 
is but the natural effect of those principles, which for 
many years have been propagated with great industry. 
And as a sharp distemper, by reclaiming a man from 
intemperance, may prolong his life, 60 it is not impos- 
sible but this public calamity that lies so heavy on the 
nation may prevent its ruin. It would certainly prove 
the greatest of blessings, if it should make all honest 
men of one party ; if it should put religion and virtue 
in countenance, restore a sense of public spirit, and 
convince men it is a dangerous folly to pursue private 
aims in opposition to the good of their country, if it 
should turn our thought from gousenage and stock- 
jobbing, to industry and frugal methods of life ; in fine, 
if it should revive and inflame that native spark of British 
worth and honour, which hath too long lain smothered 
and oppressed. 

With this view I have, among so many projects for 

• ■ ■ - "* J + ' / * 1 * 



I ■ I 



f< 



. I 



remedying the ill state of our affairs in # psrjticuiar io- 
stance, ventured ta publish the foregoing general hint* 
which as thej have teen thrown together from a oeol 
for the public good, so I heartily wish they may -be rer 
garded neither more nor less than as they ace -fitted to 
promote that end. 

Though it must be owned, that little can be hoped 
if we consider the corrupt degenerate age we live iik 
I know it is an old folly to make peevish complaints of 
the times, and charge the common failures of human 
nature on a particular age/ One may nevertheless ven^ 
ture to affirm, that the present hath brought forth new 
and portentous villanies, not to be paralleled in our owm 
or any other history. We have been long preparing for 
some great catastrophe. Vice and villany have by degrees 
grown reputable among us ; our infidels have passed for 
fine gentlemen, and our venal traitors for men of senses ' 
who knew the world. We have made a jest of public 
spirit, and cancelled all respect for whatever our laws 
and religion repute sacred. The old English modesty 
is quite worn off, and instead of blushing for our crimes, 
we are ashamed only of piety and virtue. In short, other 
nations have been wicked, but we are the first who have 
been wicked upon principle. 

The truth is, our symptoms are so bad, that not- 
withstanding all the care and vigilance of the legislature, 
it is to be feared the final period of our state approaches. 
Strong constitutions, whether politic or natural, do not 
feel light disorders. But, when they are sensibly af- 
fected, the distemper is for the most part violent and of 
an ill prognostic. Free governments like our own 
were planted by the Goths in most parts of Europe ; 
and though we all know what they are come to, yet we 
seem disposed hither to follow their example, than to 
profit by it. 

Whether it be in the order of things, that civil 
states should have, like natural products, their several 



/ / - 



84 Aif essay, fee. 

. . . » 

periods of growth; perfection, and decay ; or whether it 
be an effect, as seems more probable, of human folly, 
that as industry produces wealth, so wealth should pro- 
duce vice, and vice ruin. 

• God grant the time 1 be not near, when men shall 
say, " This island was once inhabited by a religious, 
brave, sincere people, of plain uncorrupt manners, re- 
specting inbred worth rather than titles and appearances, 
assertors of liberty, lovers of their country, jealous of 
their own rights,* and unwilling to infringe the rights of 
others ; improvers of learning and useful arts, enemies 
to luxury, tender of other men's lives, and prodigal of 
their own ; inferior in nothing to the old Greeks or 
Romans, and superior to each of those people in the per- 
fections of the other. Such were our ancestors during 
their rise and greatness ; but they degenerated, grew 
servile flatterers of men in power, adopted Epicurean 
notions, became venal, corrupt, injurious, which drew 
upon them the hatred of God and man, and occasioned 
their final ruin." 



DISCOURSE 



ADDftESSED TO 



MAGISTRATES 



AND 



MEN IN AUTHORITY, 



OCCASIONED BY THE 

ENORMOUS LICENCE AND IRRELIGION OF THE TIMES. 



DISCOURSE, &c. 



Thk pretensions and discourse of men, throughout 
these kingdoms, would, at first view, lead one to think 
die inhabitants were all politicians; and yet, perhaps, 
political wisdom hath, in no age or country, been more 
talked of and less understood. Licence is taken for the 
end of government, and popular humour for its origin. 
No reverence for the laws, no attachment to the con- 
stitution, little attention to matters of consequence, and 
great altercation upon trifles, such idle projects about 
religion and government, as if the public had both to 
choose ; a general contempt of all authority, Divine and 
human, an indifference about the prevailing opinions, 
whether they tend to produce order or disorder, to pro- 
mote the empire of God or the devil : these are the 
symptoms that strongly mark the present age ; and this 
could never have been the case, if a neglect of religion 
had not made fray for it. 

When the Jews accused Paul upon religious matters 
and points of their law, before Gallio, the Roman ma- 
gistrate ; it is said, that Gallio cared for none of those* 
things. And, it is to be feared, there are not a few ma- 
gistrates 1 in this Christian country who think with the 
same indifference on the subject of religion. Herein, 
nevertheless, they judge amiss, and are much wanting 
to their duty. For, although it be admitted, that the 
magistrate's peculiar object, is the temporal welfare of 
the state ; yet, this will by no means exclude a proper 
care about the prevailing notions and opinions of reli- 



.88 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

gion, which influence the lives and actions of men, and 
have therefore a mighty effect on the public. Men's 
behaviour is the consequence of their principles. Hence 
it follows, that in order to make a state thrive and flou- 
rish, care must he taken, that good principles be propa- 
gated in the minds of those who compose it. 

It would be vain to depend on the outward form, 
the constitution and .structure, of a state ; while the ma- 
jority are ever governed by their inward ways of think- 
ing, which at times will break out and shew themselves 
paramount to all laws and institutions whatsoever. It 
must be great folly therefore to overlook notions, as 
matters of small moment to the state ; while experience 
shews there is nothing more important ; and that a pre- 
vailing disorder in the principles and opinions of its* 
members, is ever dangerous to society, and capable of 
producing the greatest public evils. 

Man is an animal, formidable both from his passions 
and his reason ; his passions often urging him to great 
evils, and his reason furnishing means to achieve them. 
To tame this animal, and make him amenable to order, 
to inure him to a sense of justice and virtue, to with- 
hold him from ill courses by fear, and encourage him in 
his duty by hopes ; in 6hort, to fashion and model him 
for society, hath been the aim of civil and religious insti- 
tutions; and in all times, the endeavour of good and 
wise men. The aptest method for attaining this end 
hath been always judged a proper education. 

If men's actions are an effect of their principles, that 
is, of their notions, their belief, their persuasions; it 
must be admitted, that principles early sown in the 
mind, are the seeds which produce fruit and harvest m 
the ripe state of manhood. How lightly soever some 
men may speak of notions, yet so long as the soul go- - 
verns the body, men's notions must influence their 
actions, more or less, as they are stronger or weaker ; 
and to good or evil, us they are better or worse. 



\ 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 80 

Our notions and opinions are a constant check on 
our appetites, and balance to our passions; and, al- 
though they may not in every instance control and rule, 
yet they will never fail strongly to affect both the one 
and the other. What is it that bridles the impetuous 
desires of men ? That restrains them when they are 
driven by the most violent passions ? In a word, what 
is it that renders this world habitable, but the prevail- 
ing notions of order, virtue, duty, and Providence? 
Some, perhaps, may imagine, that the eye of the ma- 
gistrate alone is sufficient to keep mankind in awe. 
But, if every man's heart was set to do all the mischief 
his appetite should prompt him to do, as often as op- 
portunity and secrecy presented themselves, there could 
be no living in the world. 

And although too many of those intrusted with 
civil power, in these our days, may be said with Gallio, 
to " care for none of those things ;" and many more who 
would pass for men of judgment and knowledge, may 
look on notions early imbibed, before their grounds and 
reasons are apprehended or understood, to be but mere 
prejudices; yet this will detract nothing from their 
truth and usefulness. To place this matter in a due 
light, I propose to shew, that a system of salutary no- 
tions is absolutely necessary to the support of every 
civil constitution. I shall enforce this point, by the 
testimony of those who are esteemed the wisest men ; 
and, I shall make some remarks on the modern prevail- 
ing spirit, and the tendency of the maxims of our 
times. 

Order is necessary, not only to the well-being, but 
to the very being of a state. Now, order and regu- 
larity in the actions of men are not an effect of appetite 
or passion, but of judgment : and the judgment is go- 
verned by notions or opinions. There must, therefore, 
of necessity, in every state, be a certain system of salu- 
tary notions, a prevailing set of opinions, acquired either 

VOL. III. H 



80 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

9 

by private reason and reflection, or taught and instilled 
by the general' reason of the public ; that is, by the law 
of the land. ■ True it is, that where men either cannot 
or will ' not use their own reason, think and examine 
for themselves ; in such case the notions taught or in- 
stilled into their minds are embraced rather by the me- 
mory than the judgment. Nor will it be any objection 
to say, that these are prejudices ; inasmuch as they are 
therefore neither less useful nor less true, although 
their proofs may not be understood by all men. 

Licentious habits of youth give a cast or turn to age : 
the young rake makes an old infidel :, libertine practices 
beget libertine opinions: and a vicious life generally 
ends in an old age of prejudice not to be conquered 
by reasoning. Of this we see instances even in persons, 
celebrated for parts, and who reason admirably on other 
points where they are not biassed ; but on the subject 
of religion obtrude their guesses, surmises, and broken 
hints, for arguments. Against such there is no rea- 
soning. 

Prejudices are notions or opinions which the mind 
entertains without knowing the grounds and. reasons of 
them, and which are assented to without examination. 
The first notions which take possession of the minds of 
men, with regard to duties social, moral, and . civil, ipay 
therefore be justly styled prejudices. The mind of. a 
young creature cannot remain empty ; if you do not pot 
into it that which is good, it will be sure to receive that 
which is bad. 

Do what you can, there will still be a bias from edu- 
cation ; and if so, is it not better this bias should lie 
towards things laudable and useful to society ? This 
bias still operates, although it may not always prevail 
The notions first instilled have the earliest influence,, 
take the deepest root, and generally are found to give a 
colour and complexion to the subsequent lives of men, 
inasmuch as they are in truth the great source of hu-. 



- A DISCOURSE, &C. 91 

man actions. It is not gold, or honour, or power, that 
moves men to act, but the opinions they entertain of 
those things. Hence it follows, that if a magistrate 
should say, no matter what notions men embrace, I 
will take heed to .their actions ; therein he shews his 
weakness ; for, such as are men's notions, such will be 
their deeds. 

For a man to do as he would be done by; to 
love his neighbour as himself ; to honour his superiors ; 
to believe that God scans all his actions, and will re- 
ward or punish them : and to think, that he who is* 
guilty of falsehood or injustice hurts himself more 
than any one else: are not these such notions and' 
principles as every wise governor or legislator would 
covet above all things, to have firmly rooted in the 
mind of every individual under his care? This is al- \ 
lowed,' even by the enemies of religion, who would' 
fain have it thought the offspring of state policy, ho-' 
nouring its usefulness at the same time that they dis- 
parage its truth. What, therefore, cannot be acquired* 
by every man's reasoning, must be introduced by pre-" 
cept, and rivetted by custom ; that is to say, the bulk of 
mankind must, in all civilized societies, have their : 
minds, by timely instruction, well seasoned and furnished' 
with proper notions, which, although the grobrids or 
proofs thereof be unknown 'to them, will nevertheless 
influence their conduct, and so far render them usefiil 
members of the state. But if you strij) men of these 
their notions, or, if you will, prejudices, with regard W 
modesty, decency, justice, charity, and the like; you 
will soon find them so many monsters, uttetfy unfit for 
human society. 

I desire it may be considered* that most men - w&rit* 
leisure, opportunity, or faculties, to derive conclusions 
from their principles, and establish morality on a foun- 
dation of human science. True it is (as St. Paul ol> 
serves) that " the invisible things of God, from the crea- 

' H 2 



92 A DI SCOURSE, &C. 

tion of the world, are clearly seen/'* And from thence 
the duties of natural religion may be discovered. But 
these things are seen and discovered by those alone who 
open their eyes, and look narrowly for them. Now if 
yOu look throughout the world, you shall find but few 
of these, narrow inspectors and inquirers, very few who 
who make it their business to analyze opinions and 
pursue. them to their rational source, to examine whence 
truths spring, and how they are inferred. In short 
you shall find all men full of opinions, but knowledge 
only in a few. 

It is impossible, from the nature and circumstances 
of human kind, that the multitude should be philoso- 
phers, or that they should know things in their causes. 
We see every day, that the rules, or conclusions alone, 
are. sufficient for the shopkeeper to state his account, 
the sailor to, navigate his ship, or the carpenter to Mea- 
sure his timber ; none of which understand the the- 
ory ; that is to say, the grounds and reasons either of 
arithmetic or geometry. Even so in moral, political, 
and religious matters, it is manifest, that the rules, and 
opinions early imbibed at the first dawn of understand- 
iqg, and without the least glimpse of science, may yet 
produce, excellent effects, and be very useful to the 
world : and that in fact they are so, will be very visible 
to every one who shall observe what *passeth round 
about him. 

It may not be amiss to inculcate, that the difference 
between prejudices and other opinions doth not consist 
in this ; that the former are false, and the latter true ; 
but in this, that the former are taken upon trust, and the 
latter acquired by reasoning. He who hath been taught 
to believe the immortality of the soul, may be as right 
in his notion, as he who hath reasoned himself into that 
opinion. It will then by no means follow, that because 

this or that notion is a prejudice, it must be therefore 

» 

• Rom. i. 20. 



A- DI8COUBSJE, : &C. 93 

false. The not distinguishing between prejudices and 
errors, is a prevailing oversight among our modern free- 
thinkers. 

• There may be, indeed, certain mere prejudices or 
opinions, which having no reasons either assigned or 
assignable to support them, are nevertheless entertain- 
ed by the mind, because they intruded betimes into it. 
Such may be supposed false, not because they were 
early learned, or learned without their reasons ; but be- 
cause there 'are in truth no reasons to be given for 
them. 

Certainly if a notion may be concluded false be- 
cause it was early imbibed, or because it is with most 
men an object of belief rather than of knowledge, orte 
may by the same reasoning conclude several proposi- 
tions of EucKd to be false. A simple apprehension of 
conclusions as taken in themselves, without the deduc- 
tions of science, is what falls to the share of mankind 
in general. Religious awe, the precepts of parents and 
masters, the wisdom of legislators, and the accumulated 
experience of ages, supply the place of proofs and rea- 
sonings with the vulgar of all ranks : I would say, that 
discipline, national constitution, and laws human or Di* 
vine, are so many plain land-marks, which guide them 
into the paths wherein it is presumed they ought to 
tread. 

Fr6m what hath been premised, it plainly appears, 
that in the bulk of mankind there are and must be 
prejudices, that is, opinions taken upon trust ; or, in 
other words, that there are points of faith among all 
men whatsoever, as well as among Christians. 

And as it is evident that the unthinking part of 
every age, sex, and condition, among us t must neces- 
sarily receive notions with the submission of faith ; so 
it is very reasonable, that they should submit their faith 
to the greatest authorities human and Divine, the law 
and the gospel. But, if once all reverence for these be 



94 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

destroyed, our pretenders to moral knowledge will have 
no authority to imbue the multitude with such notions 
as may control their appetites. From all which it fol- 
lows, that the modern schemes of our free-thinkers, 
who pretend to separate morality from religion, how ra- 
tional soever they may seem to their admirers, are, in 
•truth and effect, most irrational and pernicious to civil 
society. 

Let any one, who thinks at all, consider the savage 
state of undisciplined men, whose minds are nurtured to 
no doctrine, broke by no instruction, governed by no 
principle. Let him at the same time reflect on a society 
of persons educated in the principles of our church, 
formed betimes to fear God, to reverence their superiors, 
to be grateful to their benefactors, forgiving to their 
enemies, just and charitable to all men ; and he will 
then be able to judge of the merits of those who, are so 
active to weed out the prejudices of education. 

Among the many wild notions broached in these 
giddy times, it must be owned, that some of our de- 
claimers against prejudice have wrought themselves in- 
to a sort of esteem for savages, as a virtuous and unpre- 
judiced people. In proof of which, they allege their 
being free from many vices practised in civilized na- 
tions. Now, it is very true, among savages there are 
few instances to be found of luxury, avarice, or ambi- 
tion ; not that the contrary virtues take place, but be- 
cause the opportunities and faculties for such vices are 
wanting. For the same reason you do not see them in 
brutes. 

What they esteem and admire in those creatures, is 
not innocence, but ignorance ; it is not virtue, but ne- 
cessity. ' Give them but the means of transgressing, 
and they know no bounds. For example: supply the 
water-drinking savage with strong liquor, and he shall 
be drunk for several days and nights together. Again, 
we admit an uneducated savage knows not how to sup? 



A DISCOUKSE, &C. 85 

plant a rival with the refined treachery of a courtier ; 
yet, if you put his foe once in his power, you shall soon 
see what a horrible relish and delight the monster hath 
in cruelty. 

Above all others, religious notions, or if you will, 
prejudices (since this, as hath been already observed, 
detracts nothing from their truth and usefulness), have 
the most influence, they are the strongest curb from 
vice, .and the most effectual spur to worthy conduct. 
And, indeed, whether we consider the reason of things, 
or the practice of men in all times* we shall be satisfied, 
that nothing truly great and good can enter into the 
heart of one attached to no principles of religion, who 
believes no Providence, who neither fears hell nor hopes 
for heaven. 

Punishments and rewards have always had, and al- 
ways will have, the greatest weight with men ; and the 
roost considerable of both kinds are proposed by reli- 
gion, the duties whereof fall in with the views of the civil 
magistrate ; it undeniably follows, that nothing can add 
more strength to a good and righteous government 
than religion. Therefore it mainly concerns governors 
to keep an attentive eye on the religion of their subjects. 
And indeed it is one lesson to magistrate and people, 
prince and subject, " Keep my commandments and live> 
and my law as the apple of thine eye."* 

Although it is no consequence, from what hath been 
said, that men should be debarred the free use of reason 
and inquiry, yet surely it will follow, that, without good 
reason, a man should not reject those notions which 
have been instilled by the laws and education of his 
country. And even they who think they have such rea- 
son, have nevertheless no right of dictating to others. «f» 
It is true, Divine authority is superior to all human pre- 

• Prov. vii. 3. 

+ Though a man's private judgment be a rule to himself, it will not 
thence follow that he hath any right to set it up for a rule to others. 



96 ▲ discourse, &c. 

jndices, institutions, and regards whatsoever. And it is 
wise, although at the risk of liberty or life, to obey God 
rather than man. But our modern reformers of preju- 
dices have nothing to plead of that kind.* 

There is no magistrate so ignorant as not to know 
that power, physical power, resides in the people: but 
authority is from opinion, which authority is necessary 
to restrain and direct the people's power, and therefore 
religion is the great stay and support of a state. Every 
religion that inculcates virtue, and discourageth vice, is 
00 far of public benefit. The Christian religion doth 
not only this, but farther makes every legal constitution 
sacred by commanding our submission thereto. " Let 
every soul be subject to the higher powers (saith St. 
Paul), for the powers that be are ordained of God. "•(• 
And, in effect, for several years past; while the reverence 
for our church and religion hath been decaying and 
wearing off from the minds of men, it may be observed; ' 
that loyalty hath in proportion lost ground : and now 
the very word seems quite forgotten. Submission for 
conscience, as well as for wrath, was once reckoned a 
useful lesson ; but now, with other good lessons, is laid 
aside as an absolete prejudice. 

That prince or magistrate, however great 6r power- 
ful, who thinks his own authority sufficient to make 
him respected and obeyed, lies under a woful mistake, 
and never fails to feel it sooner or later. Obedience to 
all civil power is rooted in the religious fear of God: it 
is propagated, preserved, and nourished, by religion. 
This makes men obey, not with eye-service, but in sin- 
cerity of heart. Human regards may restrain men from 
open and penal offences : but the fear of God is a re- 
straint - from all degrees of all crimes, however circum- 

* No man can say he is obliged in conscience, honour, or pru- 
dence, to insult the public wisdom, or to ridicule the laws under 
whose protection he lives. 
t Rom. xiii. 1. 



A DISCOUBSK, &C. 9? 

stanced. Take away this stay and prop of duty, this 
root of civil authority ; and all that was sustained by it* 
or grew from it, shall soon languish. The authority, 
the very being of the magistrate, will .prove a poor and 
precarious thing. 

An inward sense of the supreme majesty of the King 
of kings, is the only thing that can beget and preserve a 
true respect for subordinate majesty in all the degrees of 
power, the first link of authority being fixed at the 
throne of God. But in these our days, that mqjestas 
imperii, that sacredness of character, which, rooted in a 
religious principle, was the great guard and security of 
the state, is through want thereof become the public 
scorn. And indeed what hold can the prince or ma- 
gistrate have on the conscience of those who have no 
conscience ? How can he build on the principles of such 
as have no principles ? Or how can he hope for respect 
where God himself is neglected ? 

It is manifest that no prince upon earth can hope 
to govern well, or even to live easy and secure, much 
less respected by his people, if he do not contribute by 
his example and authority to keep tip in their minds ah 
awful sense of religion. As for a moral sense and mo- 
ral fitness, or eternal relations, how insufficient those 
things are for establishing general and just notions of 
morality, or for keeping men within due bounds, is so 
evident from feet and experience, that I need not now 
enter into a particular disquisition about them.* 

It must be owned, that the claws of rapine and vio- 
lence may in some degree be pared and blunted by the 
outward polity of a state. But should we not rather try, 
if possible, to pull them quite out ? The evil effects of 
wickedness may be often redressed by public justice. 
But would it not be better to heal the source, and, by an 
inward principle, extirpate wickedness from the heart, 
rather than depend altogether on human laws for pre- 

* See Alciphron. dial. iii. and iv. 



08 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

venting or redressing the bad effects thereof? "I might 
(said the Chinese Doctor Confucius) hear and decide 
controversies as well as another: but what I would 
have is, that men should be brought to abstain from 
controversies, out of an inward love and regard for each 
other.''* 

Too many, in this age of free remarks and projects, 
are delighted with republican schemes; and imagine they 
might remedy whatever was amiss, and render a people 
great and happy, merely by a new plan or form of 
government. This dangerous way of thinking and talk- 
ing is grown familiar, through the foolish freedom of 
the times.-}- But, alas ! those men do not seem to 
have touched either the true cause or cure of public evils. 
Be the plan ever so excellent, or the architects ever so 
able, yet no man in his wits would undertake to build a 
palace with mere mud or dirt. There must be fit mate- 
rials; and without a religious principle, men* can never 
be fit materials for any society, much less for a republic. 
Religion is the centre which unites and the cement 
which connects the several parts or members of the* poli- 
tical body. Such it hath been held by all wise men, 
from the remotest times down to our ingenious contem- 
poraries ; who, if they are in the right, it must be admit- 
ted that all the rest of the world have been in the wrong. 

From the knowledge of its being absolutely neces- 
sary to the government of a state, that the hearts and 
minds of the people be inwardly imbued with good prin- 
ciples, Plato X teU s > that " Jupiter, to preserve the race 
of men from perishing, sent Mercury, with orders to 
introduce modesty and justice among them, as the finta- 
est ties of human society ; and without which it could 
not subsist/' And elsewhere, the same author gives it 

* Scientia Sin. lib. i. fol. 12. 

t Men forget, that liberty consists in a mean, or that there is any 
otber extreme beside tyranny. 
X In Protagora. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 99 

plainly as his sense, that * " concerning those great duties 
which men's appetites and passions render difficult, it 
should seem rather the work of God to provide, than of 
human legislators, if it were possible to hope for a' sys- 
tem of laws framed and promulgated by God himself." 
You see how agreeable the Mosaic and Christian institu- 
tions are to the wishes of the wisest heathen. 

Moses, indeed* doth not insist on a future state, the - 
common basis of all political institutions. Nor do other 
lawgivers make a particular mention of all things neces- 
sary, but suppose some things as generally known or 
believed. The belief of a future state (which it is ma- 
nifest the Jews were possessed of long before the coming 
of Christ) seems to have obtained among the Hebrews 
from primeval tradition ; which might render it unne- 
cessary for Moses to insist on that article. But the 
Sadducees and Epicureans had, in progress of time, gone 
so far towards rooting out this ancient and original sen- 
timent, that it was in danger of being lost, had it not 
been taught and promulgated in a new light by our bless- 
ed Saviour. 

But many among us, who would pass for assertors of 
truth and liberty, are accustomed to rail at this, and all 
other established opinions, as prejudices which people 
are taught whether they will or no, and before they are 
able to distinguish whether they are right or wrong. 
These lovers of truth would do well to consider, that in 
political, 'moral, and religious matters, the opinions of 
the vulgar, whether they go in coaches or walk on foot, 
are for the most part prejudices ; and are so like to be, 
whatever side of the question they embrace ; whether 
they follow the old maxims of the religion of their 
country, or the modern instructions of their new mas- 
ters. I have already observed, that a point's being use- 
ful, and inculcated betimes, can be no argument of its 
falsehood, even although it should be a prejudice ; far 

• J)e Lcgibus, jib. viii. 



100 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

otherwise, utility and truth are not to be divided) the 
general good of mankind being the rule or measure of 
moral truth.* 

I shall now add, that it is to be apprehended, many 
of those who are the most forward to banish prejudices, 
would be the first to feel the want of them. It is even 
pitiful to think what would become of certain modern 
declaimers on that article, were prejudice really set 
aside, and were all men to be weighed in the exact scale 
of merit, and considered in proportion only to their in- 
trinsic worth. Some prejudices are grounded in truth! 
reason, and nature. Such are the respects which are 
paid to knowledge, learning, age, honesty, and courage, 
in all civilized countries. Others are purely the effect 
of particular constitutions ; such are the respects, rights, 
and pre-eminences, ascribed to some men by their 
fellow-subjects, on account of their birth and quality; 
which, in the great empires of Turkey and China, 
pass for nothing ; and will pass for nothing elsewhere, 
as soon as men have got rid of their prejudices, and 
learned to despise the constitutions of their country. It 
may behove those who are concerned to reflect on this 
betimes. 

God, comprehending within himself the beginning, 
end, and middle, of all things and times, exerts his 
energy throughout the whole creation. He never ceas- 
eth to influence by instinct, by the light of nature, by 
his declared will. And it is the duty of magistrates and 
lawgivers, to cultivate and encourage those Divine im- 
pressions in the minds of all men under their care. We 
are not to think it is the work of God, and therefore 
not to be seconded by human care. Far otherwise, for 
that very reason it claims our utmost care and diligence, 
it being the indispensable duty of all good men, through- 
out the whole course of their lives, to co-operate with 
the designs of Providence. In religion, as in nature, 

* Sec Alciphron, dial. i. sect. xvi. 



A DISCOURSE, &C 101 

God doth somewhat, and somewhat is to be done on 
the part of man. He causes the earth to bring forth 
materials for food and raiment; but human industry 
must improve, prepare, and properly apply, both the one 
and the other, or mankind may perish with cold and 
hunger. And according to this same analogy,* the 
principles of piety and religion, the things that belong 
to our salvation, although originally and primarily the 
work of God, yet require the protection of human go- 
vernment, as well as the furtherance and aid of all wise 
and good men. 

And if religion in all governments be necessary, yet 
it seems to be so more especially in monarchies : foras- 
much as the frugal manners and more equal fortunes 
in republics, do not so much inflame men's appetites, or 
afford such power or temptation to mischief, as the high 
estate and great wealth of nobles under a king. There- 
fore, although the magistrate (as was already observed) 
hath for his peculiar object the temporal well being of 
the state, yet this will by no means exempt him from 
a due concern for the religion of his country. 

What was the sense of our ancestors on this point, 
appears throughout the whole constitution of these 
kingdoms ; and in order to justify this constitution, and 
the wisdom of those who framed it, I shall crave leave 
to make use of some unsuspected testimonies, ancient 
and modern, which will shew, that the public care of a 
national religion hath been always a most principal 
point in the esteem of wise men, however run down by 
the prevailing licence of our times. 

The first testimony I shall produce, is that of Ze- 
leucus, the famous lawgiver pf the Locrians ; who, in 
his preamble to his laws,f begins with religion, laying 

* It wUl be sufficient, if such analogy appears between the dis- 
pensations of grace and nature, as may make it probable to suppose 
them derived from the same author. — ^/c.dial. vi. sect. xxxi. 

f Stobaras de Leg. et Consuet. ser. 145,. 



102 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

it down as the -corner-stone, or foundation of his whole 
superstructure, " that every inhabitant subject of the 
state should be persuaded that there is a God .and Di- 
vine Providence : that the only way of becoming dear 
to God, is by endeavouring above all things to be good, 
both in deed and in will : that a worthy citizen is one 
that prefers integrity to wealth." He farther admo- 
nishes those who are difficult to persuade, " to bethink 
themselves of God's providence, and the punishments 
that await evil-doers ; and in all their actions to be ever 
mindful of the last day as if it were present, or in case 
the devil * should tempt a man to sin, he exhorts such a 
one to frequent the temples and altars, worshipping and 
imploring the Divine assistance." 

Aristotle, discoursing of the means to preserve a 
monarchy, admonishes the supreme magistrate, above 
all things, to shew himself zealous in religious matters; 
and this particularly for two reasons. " 1 . Because the 
.subjects will have less to fear from one who fears* God. 
2. Because they will be -less apt to rebel against him, 
whom they take to be the favourite of Heaven. w f And 
elsewhere this same philosopher recommends the wor- 
ship of the gods, as the first care of the state. J 

Plato likewise begins his laws with the care of reli- 
gious rites. He even maintains religion, or Divine wor- 
ship, to be the chief aim and scope of human life.$ 

Hippodamus the Milesian,|| in his scheme of a re- 
public, allotted a third part of the land for maintaining 
Divine worship.^ 

t De Republ. lib. v. 

X Ibid. lib. vii. cap. xvii. 

§ De Leg. lib. 4v. et lib. vi. 

|| Arist. de Republ. lib. ii. cap. viii. 

11 The abolishing of the Christian religion upon a frugal prin- 
ciple must be bad policy, if we may judge what will be by what 
hath been in the great Pagan states of antiquity ; whose religions* 
upon a fair estimate, will be found to have been more expensive. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 103 

The. Roman historians and poets do so abound with 
passages ascribing the successes of their government to 
religion, and its declension to the want or neglect there- 
of, that it may seem impertinent to enter into a detail 
of what every school-boy knows. 

To come from ancient to modern authority, Ma- 
chiavel himself represents religion as absolutely neces- 
sary, to maintain civil order and government. He 
observes, that for many years there was a most aw- 
ful sense of religion in the old Romans ; and that this 
did much facilitate their great undertakings. He like- 
wise observes, and shews by divers instances, that the 
Romans were more afraid to break an oath than to 
transgress the laws ; and that those things which even 
the love of their country and constitution could not 
bring them to, they were brought to through a sense of 
religion. Upon the whole he concludes, that old Rome 
was more obliged to Numa, who established a national 
religion, than to Romulus himself, the founder of that 
state.* 

And here by the by I shall take notice, that some, 
may imagine, the various forms and institutions of re % 
ligion ought to unsettle men's minds with regard to the 
truth and certainty of any. But this matter rightly con* 
sidered, will, I think, produce a contrary effect. It 
sheweth indeed, that men groping out their way by the 
dim twilight of nature did only approach, some nearer, 
some farther off, while all were short of the truth. But 
then it sheweth likewise, upon the whole and in gene-, 
ral, that religion is so natural to our minds, so useful 
to society, and of so necessary importance to the world, 
as might well prove its truth, and render it worthy of 
the Divine care to propagate by prophecies, miracles,' 
and the mission of the Son of God. 

Philip de Comines,f a wise statesman and honest 
writer, who had great experience in affairs, declares it 

* Di$corsi, lib. i. cap. ii. . f Hist b. r. 



104 A DISCOURSE, &C 

to be his opinion, " that want of religious faith is the 
only fountain of all mischiefs." 

And that able minister, the famous Monsieur Col- 
bert, makes it his observation, " that if once the ec- 
clesiastical character, as such, is vilified, the civil magis- 
trate, even the crown itself, will, in consequence there- 
of, lose all authority ."* 

It would be no hard matter to produce a cloud of 
testimonies in behalf of a national religion, from the 
most eminent of our own writers; but I shall content 
myself with adding one only, and that from a very unsus- 
pected writer, Mr. Harrington, author of the Oceana, 
who shews that to be just and fair which others have 
shewed to be expedient. "A man (saith he) that, plead* 
ing for liberty of conscience, refuseth liberty to the na- 
tional conscience, must be most absurd."f And again : 
" If the conviction of a man's private conscience produce 
his private religion, the conviction of the national con- 
science must produce a national religion." J 

All these authorities are taken from thinking men 
and able politicians, none of which can be supposed to 
say what he did not really think ; and it had been very 
easy to have increased the number. But I am sorry 
I was obliged to mention any at all in proof of so plain 
and fundamental a point as that of a national religion. 
It is indeed a shameful necessity we lie under, at prov- 
ing at this time of the day the first elements, I will not 
say of Christianity, but even of natural light, from rea- 
sons and from authorities. The spirit of the times hath 
rendered this unavoidable. 

If it should be asked after all, How comes it then to 
pass, that the fashionable and prevailing maxims among 
our betters, in a neighbouring nation, should run di- 
rectly counter to all such reasons and authorities? I 
will answer this question by asking, When were bur 
neighbours known to abound to that degree in highw$y- 

• Test. Pol. c. viii. f P. 27. fint edit. $ Ibid. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 105 

men, inurderers, house-breakers, incendiaries ? When 
did such numbers lay violent hands on themselves ? 
When was there such a general and indecent contempt 
of whatever is esteemed sacred, in the state as well as 
the church ?". When were there known among them 
such public frauds, such open confederacies in villany, 
as the present age hath produced ? When were they 
lower in the esteem of mankind, more divided at home, 
or more insulted abroad ? 

We of this land have a fatal tendency to overlook 
the good qualities, and imitate whatever is amiss in those 
whom we respect. This leads me to make some re- 
marks on the modern spirit of reformation, that works 
so strongly in both these kingdoms. 

Freedom of thought is the general plea and cry of 
the age ; and we all grant, that thinking is the way to 
know ; and the more real knowledge there is in the 
land, the more likely it will be to thrive. We are not 
therefore against freedom of thought, but we are against 
those unthinking overbearing people,* who, in these 
odd times, under that pretence, set up for reformers, 
and new moulders of the constitution. We declare 
against those, who would seduce innocent and unexpe- 
rienced persons from the reverence they owe to the laws 
and religion of their country ; and, under the notion of 
extirpating prejudices, would erase from their minds all 
impressions of piety and virtue, in order to introduce 
prejudices of another kind, destructive of society. 

We esteem it a horrible thing, to laugh at the ap- 
prehensions of a future state, with the author of the 
Characteristics ;f or with him who wrote the Fable of 
the Bees, to maintain that " moral virtues are the politi* 

■ * ■ 

* It it not reason candidly proposed that offends, but the reviU. 
ing, insulting, ridiculing, of the national laws and religion ; all this 
profiteth for free- thinking, and must needs be offensive to all reason- 
able men. 

t Vol. iii. Miscel. iii. cap. ii. 

VOL. III. I 



106 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

cal offspring which flattery begot upon pride ;* that in 
morals there is no greater certainty, thati in fashions of 
dress ;f that, indeed, the doctrine of gctod manners 
teacheth men to speak well of aH virtues ; but neqbrres 
no more of them in any age or country, than the oui- 
ward appearance of those in fashion." J Two authors of 
infidel systems these, who, setting out upon opposite 
principles, are calculated to draw all mankind, by flatter- 
ing either their vanity or their passions, into one or other 
system. And yet, the people among whom Such books 
are published, wonder how it comes to pass, that the 
civil magistrate daily loseth his authority, that the laws 
are trampled upon, and the subject in constant fear of 
being robbed or murdered, or having his house burnt 
over his head ? 

It may be presumed, that the science of finding fault, 
which above all others is easiest to learn, suits' best with 
a modern education. Too many there are ofbetter fortunes 
than understandings, who have made the inquiry after 
truth a very small part of their care : these see some- 
what, but not enough. It were to be wished, they knew 
either less or more. One thing it is evident they do not 
know ; to wit, that while they rail at prejudice, they are 
undoing themselves : they do not comprehend (what 
hath been before hinted), that their whole figure, their 
political existence, is owing to certain vulgar prejudices, 
in favour of birth, title, or fortune, which add nothing 
of real worth either to mind or body \ and yet cause the 
most worthless person to be respected. 

Freedom of thought is the prerogative of human 
kind ; it is a quality inherent in the very nature of a 
thinking being. Nothing is more evident, than that 
every one can think his own way, in spite of any put- 
ward force or power whatsoever. It is therefore ridi- 

. * Inquiry into the Origia of Moral Virtue. Ed. ?i. p. 37. 
+ The author's remarks on his Fable of the Bees, p. 379. 
% Remarks, part ii. p. 155. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 107 

culous for any man to declaim : irt defence of a privi. 
kgCj which cannot be denied or takcpfrorri him 4 .But 
this will npt infer a. boundless freedom of speech,* an 
open contempt of laws, and a prescribing from private 
judgment*^ against public authority , things never borne 
in any well-ordered state ; and which make the crying 
distemper of our times. 

I am sensible, that whatever looks like a restraint 
on freedom of enquiry, must be very disagreeable to all 
reasoning and inquisitive men. But against this I have 
said nothing. ^ On the contrary, I will freely owv a 
judicious and impartial search after truth, is the most 
valuable employment of the mind. Those who have 
the talents, and will be at the pains, cannQt do better 
than engage in that noble pursuit. But those who are 
not qualified by age or education ; those who have nei- 
ther disposition nor leisure, nor faculties to dig in the 
mine of truth themselves, must take it as retailed out 
by others. I see no remedy. God who knows the op* 
portunities of every man, requires impossibilities from 
no man. And where there is a sincere love of truth 
and virtue, the grace of God can, easily supply the defect 
of human means. 

It hath been before observed, and shewed at large, 
that the bulk of mankind must have their- minds betimes 
imbued with good and wholesome notions or principles, 
by their parents, pastors, and tutors, or else bad notions, 
hurtful to themselves and others, will undoubtedly take 
possession thereof. Such bad notions have, for several 
years past, been propagated with uncommon industry in 
these kingdoms : they now bring forth fruit evfery day 

* Is there no difference between indulging scrupulous con- 
sciences, and tolerating public deriders of all conscience and religion. 

-I- A man who is himself permitted to follow his own private judg. 
ment, cannot well complain, although he may not set it upas's pub- 
lie rule. 

X The profane and lawless scorner is one thing, and tj}e modest 
inquirer after truth another. 

I 2 



108 A DISCOURSE, &C. 

more and more abundant. It is to be feared, that what 
hath been long ripening, is now near ripe. Many are 
the signs and tokens. He that runs may read. 

But there cannot be a higher, or more flagrant 
symptom of the madness of our times, than that execra- 
ble fraternity of blasphemers, lately set up within this 
city of Dublin. Blasphemy against God is a great crime 
against the state. But that a set of men should, in 
open contempt of the laws, make this very crime their 
profession, distinguish themselves by a peculiar name,* 
and form a distinct society, whereof the proper and 
avowed business shall be, to shock all serious Christians 
by the most impious and horrid blasphemies, uttered in 
the most public manner : this surely must alarm ' all 
thinking men. It is a new thing under the sun reserved 
for our worthy times and country. 

It is no common blasphemy I speak of: it is not 
simple cursing and swearing : it is not the effect either 
of habit or surprise ; but a train of studied deliberate in- 
dignities against the Divine Majesty ; and those, of so 
black and hellish a kind, as the tongues alone which ut- 
tered them, can duly characterize and express. This 
is no speculative heresy, no remote or doubtful infer- 
ence from an author's tenets. It is a direct and open 
attack on God himself. It is such a calm premeditated 
insult upon religion, law, and the very light of nature, 
that there is no sect or nation of men, whether Christ- 
ians, Jews, Mahometans, or even civilized heathens, 
that would not be struck with horror and amazement 
at the thought of it, and that would not animadvert! on 
its authors with the utmost severity. 

Deliberate, atheistical blasphemy, is of all crimes 
most dangerous to the public, inasmuch as it opens the 

* Blasters. 

\ They (if there be any such) who think to serve the Reformation, 
by joining with blasters and devil-worshippers in a plea for licence, 
are in truth a scandal and reproach to the protestant cause. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. 109 

door to all other crimes, and virtually contains them all. 
A religious awe and fear of God, being (as we have 
already observed) the centre that unites and the cement 
that connects all human society. He, who makes it his 
business, to lessen or root out from the minds of men 
this principle, doth in effect endeavour to fill his coun- 
try with highwaymen, house-breakers, murderers, frau- 
dulent dealers, perjured witnesses, and every other pest 
of society. Therefore, it would be the greatest cruelty 
to our children, neighbours, and country, to connive at 
such a crime ; a crime which hath no natural passion 
or temptation to plead for it, but is the pure effect of 
an abandoned impudence in wickedness ; and, perhaps, 
of a mistaken hope, that the laws and magistrates are 
asleep. 

The question is not now, whether religion shall be 
established by law : the thing is already done (and done 
with good reason, as appeareth from the premises), but 
whether a reverence* for the laws shall be preserved. 
Religion, considered as a system of saving truths, hath 
its sanction from heaven ; its rewards and penalties are 
Divine. But religion, as useful and necessary to society, 
hath been wisely established by law ; and so established, 
and wrought into the very frame and principles of our 
government, is become a main part of the civil consti- 
tution. Our laws are the laws of a Christian country : 
our government hath been constituted and modelled by 
Christians ; and is still administered and maintained by 
men professing belief in Christ. Can it then be sup- 
posed, that impious men shall with impunity invent ancjf 

* They who plead a right to contradict the laws, can pretend 
none for doing it with insolence or disrespect. 

f To make the cause of such men the cause of liberty or tole- 
ration, would be monstrous. A man is not suffered publicly to 
blaspheme, therefore he may not think freely : a profane mis- 
creant is not indulged in the public worship of the deyil, therefore 
a conscientious person may not serve God his own way ; is not this 
absurd? 



110 A J6ISCOUR8B, &c. 

publicly' utfetf the most horrid blaspheiriies ; and, at 
the fame time, the. whole constitution not be endan- 
gered : ori can it be supposed that magistrates, or men 
invested with power, should look on, and see the most 
sacred part of our constitution trampled under foot, and 
yet imagine their own dignity and authority to be secure, 
which rest entirely, thereupon ? I will venture to say, 
that whoever is a wise man, and a lover of his country, 
williiot only be solicitous to preserve the honour of God 
sacred and entire ; he will even discourage that prevail- 
ing prejudice against the dispensers of God's word, the 
teachers of those salutary doctrines, without which the 
public cannot thrive or subsist. He will be no con* 
temner, not even of those rites and ordinances enjoined 
by law, as necessary to imprint and retain a sense of 
religion in the minds of men. He will extend his care 
to the outworks, as knowing that when these are gone, 
it may be difficult to preserve the rest. 

Notwithstanding the vain assertion of those men, 
whoiwodld justify the present, by saying all times are 
alike, it is most evident, that the magistrates, the laws, 
the Very constitution of these realms, have lost no small 
share 6f their authority and reverence, since this great 
growth and spreading of impious principles. Whatever 
be the cause, the effect is apparent. Whether we ascribe 
it to the natural course of things, or to a just judgment 
upon those, who, having been careless to preserve a due 
sense of the Divine authority, have seen and shall see 
their own despised. 

Darius, a heathen prince, made a decree, that in 
every dominion of his kingdom, men should tremble 
and fear before God.* Nebuchadnezzar, likewise, an- 
other heathen, made a decree, that every people, nation, 
and language, which spoke any thing amiss against God, 
should be cut in pieces, and their houses made a dung- 
hil.f And if these things were done in Persia hnd 

• Dan.vi. 26. t Ibid, iii.29. 



A DISCOURSE, &C. Ill 

Babylon, surely it may be expected, that impious blas- 
phemers against God, and his worship, should, at least,' 
be discouraged and put out of countenance in these 
Christian countries. Now, a constant course of dis- 
favour from men in authority, would prove a most effec- 
tual check; to all such miscreants. When therefore 
they are public and bold in their blasphemies, this is np 
small reflection on. those who might check them if they 
would. 

It is not so much the execution of the laws, as the 
countenance of .those in authority, that is wanting to 
the maintenance of religion. If men of rank and power; 
who have a share in distributing justice, and a voice in 
the public councils, shall be observed to neglect Divine 
worship themselves, it must needs be a great tempta- 
tion for others, to do the same. But if they, and their 
families, should set a good example, it may be presumed, 
that men of less figure would be disposed to follow it. 
Fashions are always observed to descend, and people are 
generally fond of being in the fashion ; whence one 
would be apt to suspect, the prevailing contempt of 
God's word,, and estrangement from his house, to a de~ 
gree that was never known in any Christian country, 
must take its. rise from the irreligion and bad ekample 
pf those who are styled the belter sort. 

Offences must come, but woe be to him, by whom . 
the , offenoe cometh. A man who is entrusted with 
power and influence in his country, hath much to an- 
swer for, if religion and virtue suffer through want of 
his authority and countenance. But in case he should, 
by the vanity of his discourse, his favour to wicked 
men, or his own apparent neglect of all religious duties, 
countenance what he ought to condemn, and authorise 
by his own example what he ought to punish ; such a 
one, whatever he may pretend, is in fact a bad pa- 
triot, a bad citizen, and a bad subject, as well as a bad 
Christian. 



112 A DISCQUBSE, &C. 

Our prospect is very terrible, and the symptom^ 
grow stronger every day. The morals of a people are 
in this like their fortunes ; when they feel a national 
shock, the worst doth not shew itself immediately. 
Things make a shift to subsist for a time on the credit 
of old notions and dying opinions. But the youth born 
and brought up in wicked times, without any bias to 
good from early principle, or instilled opinion, when 
they grow ripe must be monsters indeed. And it is to 
be feared, that age of monsters is not far off. 

Whence this impiety springs, by what means it gains 

ground among us, and how it may be remedied, are 

matters that deserve the attention of all those who have 

the power and the will to serve their country. And 

although many things look like a prelude to general 

ruin ; although it is much to be apprehended, we shall 

be worse before we are better ; yet who knows what 

may ensue, if all persons in power, from the supreme 

executor of the law, down to a petty constable, would, 

in their several stations, behave themselves like men, 

truly conscious and mindful, that the authority they are 

clothed with, is but a ray derived from the supreme 

authority of Heaven ? This may not a little contribute 

to stem that torrent, which from small beginnings, and 

under specious pretences, hath grown to such a head, 

and daily gathers force more and more to that degree, 

as threatens a general inundation and destruction of 

these realms. 



WORD TO THE WISE: 



OK, All 



EXHORTATION 



TO THB 



ROMAN CATHOLIC CLERGY OF IRELAND. 



/.' 



fc,J 



• t 



WORD TO THE WISE. 



Be not startled, reverend Sirs, to find yourselves ad- 
dressed to by one of a different communion. We are 
indeed (to our shame be it spoken) more inclined to 
hate for those articles wherein we differ, than to love 
one another for those wherein we agree. But if we 
cannot extinguish, let us at least suspend our animo- 
sities, arid, forgetting our religious feuds, consider our- 
selves in the amiable light of countrymen and neigh- 
bours. Let us for once turn our eyes on those things, 
in which we have one common interest. Why should 
disputes about faith interrupt the duties of civil life ? 
or the different roads we take to heaven prevent our 
taking the same steps on earth ? Do we not inhabit the 
same spot of ground, breathe the same air, and live 
under the same government ? Why then should we not 
conspire in one and the same design, to promote the 
common good of our country. 

We are all agreed about the usefulness of meat, 
drink, and clothes, and, without doubt, we all sincerely 
wish our poor neighbours were better supplied with 
them. Providence and nature have done their part ; no 
country is better qualified to furnish the necessaries of 
life, and yet no people are worse provided. In vain is 
the earth fertile, and the climate benign, if human 
labour be wanting. Nature supplies the materials, 
which art and industry improve to the use of man, and 
it is the want of this industry that occasions all our 
other wants. 



116 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

The public hath endeavoured to excite and encourage 
this most useful virtue. Much hath been done ; but 
whether it be from the heaviness of the climate, or from 
the Spanish or Scythian blood that runs in their veins, 
or whatever else may be the cause, there still remains in 
the natives of this island a remarkable antipathy to la- 
bour. You, gentlemen, can alone conquer their innate 
hereditary sloth. Do you then, as you love your coun- 
try, exert yourselves., 

You are known to have gfeat influence on the minds 
of your people ; be so good as to use this influence for 
their benefit. Since other methods fail, try what you 
can do. " Be instant in season, out of season, reprove, 
rebuke, exhort.* Make them thoroughly sensible of 
the sin and folly of sloth. Shew your charity in cloth- 
ing the naked and feeding the hungry, which you may 
do by the mere breath of your mouths. Give me leave 
to tell you, that no set of men upon earth have it in 
their power to do good on easier terms, with more ad- 
vantage to others, and less pains or loss to themselves. 
Your flocks are of all others most disposed to follow 
directions, and of all others Want them most ; and in- 
deed what do they not want ? 

The house of $n Irish peasant is the cave of po- 
verty ; within, you see a pot and a little straw ; without, 
a heap of children tumbling on the dunghill. Their 
fields and gardens are a lively counterpart of Solomon's 
description in the Proverbs : " I went (saith that wis* 
king) by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard 
of the man void of understanding, and lo 1 it was all 
grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the 
face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken 
down."t In every road the ragged ensigns of poverty 
are displayed ; you often meet caravans of poor, whole 
families in a drove, without clothes to cover, or bread 

* 2 Thn. iv. 2. + Prov. xxiv. 30, 31. 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 117 

to feed them, both which might be easily procured by 
moderate labour. They are encouraged in this vaga- 
bond life by the miserable hospitality they meet with in 
every cottage, whose inhabitants expect the same kind 
reception in their turn, when they become beggars them- 
selves ; beggary being the last refuse of these improvi- 
dent creatures. 

If I seem to go out of my province, or to prescribe to 
those who must be supposed to know their own business, 
or to paint the lower inhabitants of this land in no very 
pleasing colours, you will candidly forgive a well-meant 
zeal, which obligeth me to say things, rather useful than 
agreeable, and to lay open the sore in order to heal it. 

But whatever is said must be so taken, as not to re- 
flect on persons of rank and education, who are no way 
inferior to their neighbours ; nor yet to include all even 
of the lowest sort, though it may well extend to the ge- 
nerality, of those especially in the western and south- 
ern parts of the kingdom, where the British manners 
have less prevailed. We take our notions from what 
we see, mine are a faithful transcript from originals about 
me. 

The Scythians were noted for wandering, and the Spar 
piards for sloth and pride ; our Irish are behind neither 
of these nations, from which they descend, in their re- 
spective characteristics. " Better is he that laboureth and 
aboundetb in all things, than he that boasteth himself and 
wanteth bread," saith the son of Sirach ;* but so saitli 
not the Irishman. In my own family a kitchen- wench 
refused to carry out cinders, because she was descended 
from an old Irish stock. Never was there a more mon- 
strous conjunction than that of pride with beggary ; and 
yet this prodigy is seen every day in almost every part 
of this kingdom. At the same time these proud peo- 
ple are more destitute than savages, and more abject 
than negroes. The negroes in our plantations have 

• Pror. x. 27. 



118 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

a saying, If negro was not negro, Irishman Would be 
negro. And it may be affirmed with truth, that the 
very savages of America are better clad and better lodged 
than the Irish cottagers throughout the fine fertile coun- 
ties of Limerick and Tipperary. 

Having long observed and bewailed this wretched 
state of my countrymen, and the insufficiency of several 
methods set on foot to reclaim them, I have recourse to 
your reverences, as the dernier resort. Make them to 
understand that you have their interest at heart, that 
you persuade them to work for their own sakes, and 
that God hath ordered matters so as that they, who 
will not work for themselves, must work for others. 
The terrors of debt, slavery, and famine should, one 
would think, drive the most slothful to labour. Make 
them sensible of these things, and that the ends of 
Providence and order of the world require industry in 
human creatures. " Man goeth forth to his work and 
to his labour until the evening," saith the Psalmist, when 
he is describing the beauty, order, and perfection, of the 
works of God.* But what saith the slothful person ? 
" Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of 
the hands to sIeep. M -f* But what saith the wise man ? 
" So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth and 
thy want as an armed man.";}; 

All nature will furnish you with arguments and ex- 
amples against sloth : " Go to the ant, thou sluggard,* 
cries Solomon. The ant, the bee, the beetle, and every 
insect' but the drone, read a lesson of industry to man. 
But the shortest and most effectual lesson is that of St 
Paul : " If any man will not work neither should he eat."§ 
This command was enjoined the Thessalonians, and 
equally respects all Christians, and indeed all mankind ; 
it being evident, by the light of nature, that the whole 
creation works together for good, and that no part was 

* Ps. civ. 23. + Prov. vi. 10. 

X Prov. vi. 1 1 . \2 Thess. aim. 10. 



a : vrbnit to i*k wAe. 119 

designed to be useless ; as therefore the idle man as bf 
no use, it follows that he hath no right to a subsistence. 
*'Let them wort (saith the apostle), and eat their oWn 
btead ;"* not bread got by begging, nor bread earned by 
the sweat of other men ; but their own bread, that which 
is got by their own labour. " Then shaft thou eat the 
labour of thine hands/* saith the Psalmist ; to which he 
adds, " Efappy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with 
thee ;"•(* intimating, that to work and enjoy the fruits 
thereof is a great blessing. 

A slothful man's imagination is apt to dress up la- 
bour in a horrible mask ; but, horrible as it is, idleness 
is more to be dreaded, and a life of poverty (its neces- 
sary consequence) is far more painful. It was the ad- 
vice of Pythagoras, to choose the best kind of life, for 
that use would render it agreeable, reconciling Wten even 
to the toughest exercise. By practice, paind feecome 
at first easy, and in the progress pleasant ; and this is so 
true, that whoever examines things will find, there can 
be no such thing as happy life without labour, and that 
Whoever doth not labour with his hands, must in his owtl 
defence labour with his brains. 

Certainly, planting and tilling the earth is an exer- 
cise not less pleasing than useful ; it takes the peasant 
from his smoky cabin into the fresh air and the open field, 
rendering his lot far more desirable than that of the slug- 
gard, who lies in the straw, or sits whole days by the fire. 1 

Convince your people, that not only pleasure invites, 
but necessity also drives them to labour. If you have 
any compassion for these poor creatures, put them in 
mind how many of them perished in a late memorable 
distress, through want of that provident care against a 
hard season, observable not only in all other men, but 
feven in irrational animals. Set before their eyes, in live- 
ly colours, their own indigent and sordid lives, compared 
vvith those of other people, whose industry hath procured, 

•2 Thess. iii. 12. + Ps. cxxTiii. 2. 



J 20 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

them hearty food, warm clothes, and decent dwellings. 
Make them sensible what a reproach it is, that a nation 
which makes so great pretensions to antiquity, and is said 
to have flourished many ages ago in arts and learning, 
should in these our days turn out a lazy, destitute, and 
degenerate race. 

Raise your voices, reverend Sirs, exert your in- 
fluence, shew your authority over the multitude, by en- 
gaging them to the practice of an honest industry, a duty 
necessary to all, and required in all, whether protestants, 
or Roman catholics, whether Christians, Jews, or pa- 
gans. Be so good, among other points, * to find room 
for this, than which none is of more concent to the 
souls and bodies of your hearers, nor consequently de- 
serves to be more amply or frequently insisted on. 

Many and obvious are the motives that recommend 
this duty. Upon a subject so copious you ca$ never 
be at a loss for something to say. And while by these 
means you rescue your countrymen from want and mi- 
sery, you will have the satisfaction to behold your coun- 
try itself improved. What pleasure must it give you, 
to see these waste and wild scenes, these naked ditches, 
and miserable hovels, exchanged for fine plantations, 
rich meadows, well-tilled fields, and neat dwellings ; to 
see people well fed, and well clad, instead of famished, 
ragged scarecrows ; and those very persons tilling the 
fields that used to beg in the streets. 

Neither ought the difficulty of the enterprise to 
frighten you from attempting it. It must be confessed, 
a habit of industry is not at once introduced ; neigh- 
bour, nevertheless, will emulate neighbour, and the con- 
tagion of good example will spread as surely as of bad, 
though perhaps not so speedily. It may be hoped 
there are many that would be allured by a plentiful and 
decent manner of life to take pains, especially when they 
observe it to be attained by the industry of their neigh- 
bours, in no sort better qualified than themselves. 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 121 

If the same gentle spirit of sloth did not sooth our 
squires as well as peasants, one would imagine there 
should be no idle hands among us. Alas ! how many 
incentives to industry offer themselves in this island, cry- 
ing aloud to the inhabitants for work ? Roads to be re- 
paired, rivers made navigable, fisheries on the coasts, 
mines to be wrought, plantations to be raised, manufac- 
tures improved, and, above all, lands to be tilled, and 
sowed with all sorts of grain. 

When so many circumstances provoke and animate 
your people to labour ; when their private wants, and the 
necessities of the public; when the laws, the magistrates, 
and the very country calls upon them ; you cannot think 
it becomes you alone to be silent, or hindmost in every 
project for promoting the public good. Why should 
you, whose influence is greatest, be least active ? Why 
should you, whose words are most likely to prevail, say 
least in the common cause ? 

Perhaps it will be said, the discouragements attend- 
ing those of your communion are a bar against all en- 
deavours for exciting them to a laudable industry. Men 
are stirred up to labour by the prospect of bettering 
their fortunes, by getting estates> or employments ; but 
.those who are limited in the purchase of estates, and 
excluded from all civil employments, are deprived of 
•those spurs to industry. 

To this it may be answered, that admitting these 
considerations do, in some measure, damp industry and 
ambition in persons of a certain rank, yet they can be no 
let to the industry of poor people, or supply an argument 
against endeavouring to procure meat, drink, and clothes. 
It is not proposed, that you should persuade the better 
.sort to acquire estates, or qualify themselves for becom- 
ing magistrates ; but only that you should set the low- 
est of the people at work, to provide themselves with ne- 
ceasaries, and supply the wants of nature. 

It will be alleged in excuse of their idleness, that 

VOL. III. K 



122 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

the country people want encouragement to labour, as not 
having a property in the lands. There is small encourage- 
ment, say you, for them to build or plant upon another's 
land, wherein they have only a temporary interest. To 
which I answer, that life itself is but temporary ; that all 
tenures are not of the same kind ; that the case of our 
English and the original Irish is equal in this respect ; 
and that the true Aborigines, or natural Irish, are noted 
for want of industry in improving even on their own 
lands, whereof they have both possession and property. 

How many industrious persons are there in all civil* 
ized countries, without any property in lands, or any 
prospect of estates, or employments ! Industry never 
fails to reward her votaries. There is no one but can 
earn a little, and little added to little makes a heap. In 
this fertile and plentiful island, none can perish for want 
but the idle and improvident. None who have in- 
dustry, frugality, and foresight, but may get into tole- 
rable if not wealthy circumstances. Are not all trades 
and manufactures open to those of your communion ? 
Have you not the same free use, and may you not make 
the same advantage, of fairs and markets as other men ? 
Do you pay higher duties, or are you liable to greater im- 
positions, than your fellow-subjects ? And are not the 
public premiums and encouragements given indifferently 
to artists of all communions ? Have not, in fact, those of 
your communion a very great share of the commerce of 
this kingdom in their hands ? And is not more to be got 
by this than by purchasing estates, or possessing civil em- 
ployments, whose incomes are often attended with large 
expenses ? 

A tight house, warm apparel, and wholesome food, 
are sufficient motives to labour. If all had them, we 
should be a flourishing nation. And if those who take 
pains may have them, those who will not take pains are 
not to be pitied ; they are to be looked on and treated as 
drones, the pest and disgrace of society. 



a Word to the wise. l$5 

Jt witl he said, the hardness of the landlord cramps 
the industry of the tenant. Bnt if rent be high, and the 
landlord rigorous, there is more need of industry irt the 
tenant It is well known that in Holland taxes are 
much higher, and rent both of land and houses far 
dearer, than in Ireland, But this is no objection or im- 
pediment to the industry of the people, who are rather 
animated and spurred on to earn a livelihood by labour, 
that is not to be got without it. 

You will say, it is an easy matter to make a plausible 
discourse on industry, and its advantages ; but what can 
be expected for poor creatures, who are destitute of all 
conveniences for exerting their industry, who have 
nothing to improve upon, nothing to begin the world 
with ? I answer, they have their four quarters, and five 
senses. Is it nothing to possess the bodily organs sound 
and entire ? That wonderful machine, the hand, was it 
formed to be idle ? 

Was there but will to work, there are not wanting 
in this island either opportunities or encouragements. 
Spinning alone might employ all idle hands (children as 
■ well as parents), being soon learned, easily performed, 
and never failing of a market, requiring neither wit not 
strength, but suited to all ages and capacities. The pub- 
lic provides utensils, and persons for teaching the use of 
them ; but the public cannot provide a heart and will to 
be industrious. These, I will not deny, may be found 
in several persons in some otlier parts of the kingdom, 
and wherever they are found, the comfortable effects 
shew themselves. But seldom, very seldom, are they 
found in these southern people, whose indolence figur- 
eth a lion in the way, and is proof against all encou- . 
ragement. 

But you will insist, how can a poor man, whose dfcily 
labour goes for the payment of his rent, be able to pro- 
vide present necessaries for his family, much less to lay 
up a store for the future ? It must be owned, a consider- 

k 2 



124 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

.able share of the poor man's time and labour goes to- 
wards paying his rent. But how are his wife and chil- 
dren employed, or how doth he employ himself the rest 
of his time ? The same work tires, but different works 
relieve. Where there is a true spirit of industry, .there 
will never be wanting something to do, without doors 
or within, by candle-light if not by day-light. Lpbor 
ipse voluptas, saith the poet, and this is verified in fact . 

In England, when the labour of the field is over, it 
is usual for men to betake themselves to some other labour 
of a different kind. In the northern parts of that in- 
dustrious land, the inhabitants meet, a jolly crew, at one 
another's houses, where they merrily and. frugally pass 
the long and dark winter evenings ; several families, by 
the same light and the same fire, working at their dif- 
ferent manufactures of wool, flax, or hemp ; company 
mean while mutually cheering and provoking to labour. 
In certain other parts you may see,* on a summer's 
evening, the common labourers sitting along the streets 
of a town or village, each at his own door, with a cush- 
ion before him making bone-lace, and earning more in 
an evening's pastime than an Irish family would in a 
whole day. Those people, instead of closing the day with 
a game on greasy cards, or lying stretched before the 
fire, pass their time much more cheerfully in some use- 
ful employment, which custom hath rendered light and 
agreeable. 

But admitting, for the various reasons above al- 
leged, that it is impossible for our cottagers to be rich, yet 
it is certain they may be clean. Now bring them to be 
cleanly, and your work is half done. A little washing, 
scrubbing, and rubbing, bestowed on their persons and 
houses, would introduce a sort of industry, and industry 
in any one kind is apt to beget it in another. 

Indolence in- dirt is a terrible symptom, which 
shews itself in our lower Irish more, perhaps, than 

* £. g. Newport Pagnel in Buckinghamshire. 



A WORD TO TH8 WISE. 125 

in any people on this side the Cape of Good Hope, 
I will venture to add, that look throughout the king- 
dom, and ydu shall not find a clean house inhabited by 
cleanly people, and yet wanting necessaries ; the same 
spirit of industry that keeps folk clean, being sufficient 
to keep them also' in food and raiment. 

But, alas ! our poor Irish are wedded to dirt upon 
principle. It is with some of them a maxim, that the 
way to make children thrive is to keep them dirty. And 
I do verily believe, that the familiarity with dirt, con- 
tracted and nourished from their infancy, is one great 
cause of that sloth which attends them in every stage of 
life. Were children but brought up in an abhorrence of 
dirt, and obliged to keep themselves clean, they would 
have something to do, whereas they now do nothing. 

It is past all doubt, that those who are educated in a 
supine neglect of all things, either profitable or decent, 
must needs contract a sleepiness and indolence, which 
doth necessarily lead to poverty, and every other distress 
that attends it. " Love not sleep (cries Solomon), lest 
thou come to poverty ; open thine eyes and thou shalt 
be satisfied with bread."* It is therefore greatly to be 
wished, that you would persuade parents to inure their 
children betimes to a habit of industry, as the surest 
way to shun the miseries that must otherwise befal 
them. 

An early habit, whether of sloth or diligence, will 
not fail to shew itself throughout the whole course of a 
man's life. " Train up a child (saith the wise man) in 
the way he should go, and when he is old he will not 
depart from it/'f- The first tincture often leaves so deep 
a stain as no afterthought or endeavour can wash out. 
Hence sloth in some minds is proof against all argu- 
ments and examples whatsoever, all motives of interest < 
and duty, all impressions even of cold and hunger. This 
habit rooted in the child, grows up and adheres to the 

* Prov. xx. 13. + Prov. xxii. 6. 



J- 



130 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

man, producing a general listlessness, $nd aversion from 
labour. This I take to be our great calamity. 

For admitting, that some of our squires and land- 
lords are vultures with iron bowels, and that their hard- 
ness and severity are a great discouragement to thp te- 
nant, who will naturally prefer want and ease before 
want and toil ; it must at the same time be admitted, 
that neither is the landlord, generally speaking, 90 hqrd, 
nor the climate so severe, nor the soil so ungrateful, as 
not to answer the husbandman's labour, where there is 
a spirit of industry ; the want of which is the true cause 
of our national distress. Of this there are many evi- 
dent proofs. 

I have myself known a man, from the lowest con- 
dition of life, without friends or education, not knpw- 
ing so much as to write or read, bred to no trade or 
calling, by pure dint of day-labour, frugality, and fore- 
sight, to have grown wealthy, even in this island, and 
under all the abovementioned disadvantages. And what 
is done by one, is possible to another. 

In Holland, a child five years old is maintained by 
its own labour ; in Ireland many children of twice that 
age do nothing but steal, or encumber the hearth and 
dunghil. This shameful neglect 6t education shews 
itself through the whole course of their lives, in a match- 
less sloth bred in the very bone, and not to be accounted 
for by any outward hardship or discouragement what- 
ever. It is the native colour, if we may so speak, apd 
complexion of the people. Dutph, English, French, or 
Flemish, cannot match them. 

Mark an Irishman at work in the field ; if a coach 
or horseman go by, he is sure to suspend his labour, 
and stand staring until they are out of sight A neigh- 
bour of mine made it his remark in a journey frofli 
London to Bristol, that all the labourers, of whom he 
inquired the road, constantly answered without looking 
up, or interrupting their work, except one who stood 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 127 

staring and leaning on his spade, and him he found to 
be an Irishman. 

It is a shameful thing, and peculiar to this nation, 
to see lusty vagabonds strolling about the country, and 
begging without any pretence to beg. Ask them why 
they do not labour to earn their own livelihood, they 
will tell you, they want employment ; offer to employ 
them, and they shall refuse your offer; or, if you get 
them to work one day, you may be sure not to see them 
the next. I have known them decline, even the lightest 
labour, that of hay-making, having at the same time 
neither clothes for their backs, nor food for their bel- 
lies. 

A sore leg is an estate to such a fellow, and this 
may be easily got, and continued with small trouble. 
Such is their laziness, that rather than work they will 
cherish a distemper. This I know to be true, having 
seen more than one instance, wherein the second na- 
ture so far prevailed over the first, that sloth was pre- 
ferred to health. To these beggars, who make much of 
their sores, and prolong their diseases, you cannot do 
a more thankless office than cure them, except it be to 
shave their beards, which conciliate a reverence to that 
order of men. 

It is indeed a difficult task to reclaim such fellows 
from their slothful and brutal manner of life, to which 
they seem wedded with an attachment that no temporal 
motives can conquer ; nor is there, humanly speaking, 
any hopes they will amend, except their respect for your 
lessons, and fear of something beyond the grave be 
able to work a change in them. 

Certainly, if I may advise, you should, in return for 
the lenity and indulgence of the government, endeavour 
to make yourselves useful to the public ; and this will 
best be performed, by rousing your poor countrymen 
from their beloved sloth. I shall not now dispute the 
truth or importance of other points, but will venture 



128 A WORD TO THE WISE. 

to say, that you may still find time to inculcate thia 
doctrine of an honest industry, and that this would by 
no means be time thrown away, if promoting your coun- 
try's interest, and rescuing so many unhappy wretches 
of your communion from beggary or the gallows, be 
thought worthy of your pains. ' ' 

It should seem you cannot in your sermons do bet- 
ter than inveigh against idleness, that extensive parent 
of many miseries and many sins ; idleness, the mother 
of hunger and sister of theft ; idleness, which, the son 
ofSirach assures, teacheth many vices. 

The same doctrine is often preached from the gal- 
lows. And indeed the poverty, nakedness and famine, 
which idleness entaileth on her votaries, do make men 
so wretched, that they may well think it better to die 
than to live such lives. Hence a courage for all vil- 
lanous undertakings, which, bringing men to a shame- 
ful death, do then open their eyes when they are going 
to be closed for ever. 

If you have any regard (as it is not to be doubted) 
either for the souls or bodies of your people, or even 
for your own interest and credit, you cannot fail to in- 
veigh against this crying sin of your country. Seeing 
you are obnoxious to the laws, should you not in pru- 
dence try to reconcile yourselves to the favour of the 
public ; and can you do this more effectually, than by 
co-operating with the public spirit of the legislature, 
and men in power ? 

Were this but done heartily, would you but €t be 
instant in season, and out of season, reprove, rebuke, 
exhort,** such is the ascendant you have gained over, 
the people, that we might soon expect to see the good 
effects thereof. We might hope " that our garners 
would be soon full, affording all manner of store, that 
our sheep would bring forth thousands, that our oxen 
would be strong to labour, that there would be no 

• 2 Tim. iv. 2. 



A WOAD TO THIS WISE. 129 

breaking in, nor going out (no robbery, nor migration 
for bread) ; and that there would be no complaining in 
our streets.*** 

It stands you upon to act with vigour in this cause, 
and shake off the shackles of sloth from your country- 
men, the rather, because there be some who surmise, 
that yourselves have put them on. Right or wrong, 
men will be apt to judge of your doctrines by their 
fruits. It will reflect small honour on their teachers, 
if instead of honesty and industry those of your commu- 
nion are peculiarly distinguished by the contrary qua- 
lities, or if the nation converted by the great and glo- 
rious St. Patrick should, above all other nations, be 
stigmatized and marked out as good for nothing. 

I can never suppose you so much your own enemies, 
as to be friends to this odious sloth. But were this 
once abolished, and a laudable industry introduced in 
its stead, it may perhaps be asked, who are to be gainers? 
I answer, your reverences are like to be great gainers ; 
for every penny you now gain you will gain a shilling : 
you would gain also in your credit: and your lives 
would be more comfortable. 

You need not be told, how hard it is to rake from 
rags and penury a tolerable subsistence ; or how offen- 
sive to perform the duties of your function, amidst 
stench and nastiness ; or how much things would change 
for the better, in proportion to the industry and wealth 
of your flocks. Duty as well as interest calls upon you' 
to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry, by persuading 
them to " eat (in the apostle's phrase) their own bread ;** 
or, as the Psalmist expresseth it, " the labour of their 
own hands." By inspiring your flocks with a love of 
industry, you will at once strike at the root of many 
vices, and dispose them to practise many virtues. This 
therefore is the readiest way to improve them. 

Consult your superiors. They shall tell you the 

* Psalm cxliv. IS, 14. 



J 30 A WOBD TO THE WISE. 

doctrine here delivered is a sound catholic doctrine, not 
limited to protestants, but extending to all, and admitted 
by all, whether protestants or Roman catholics, Christ- 
ians or Mahometans, Jews or gentiles. And as it is 
of the greatest extent, so it is also of the highest im- 
portance. St. Paul expressly saith, that " if any pro- 
vide not for his own, and especially for those of his own 
house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an 

infidel."* 

In vain then do you endeavour to make men ortho- 
dox in points of faith, if, at the same time, in the eyes of 
Christ and his apostles, you suffer them to be worse 
than infidels, than those who have no faith at all. There 
is something it seems worse than even infidelity ; and 
to incite and stimulate you to put away tljat cursed thing 
from among you, is the design and aim of tins address. 
The doctrine we recommend is an evident branch of the 
law of nature ; it was taught by prophets, inculcated by 
apostles, encouraged and enforced by philosophers, le- 
gislators, and all wise states, in all ages, and in all parts 
of the world. Let me therefore entreat you to exert 
yourselves, " to be instant in season, and out of season, * 
rebuke, reprove, exhort." Take all opportunities to 
drive the lion out of the way ; raise your voices, omit no 
occasion, public or private, of awakening your wretched 
countrymen from their sweet dream of sloth. 

Many suspect your religion to be the cause of that 
notorious idleness, which prevails so generally among 
the natives of this island, as if the Roman catholic faith 
were inconsistent with an honest diligence in a man's 
calling. But whoever considers the great spirit of in- 
dustry that reigns in Flanders and France, and even 
beyond the Alps, must acknowledge this to be a ground- 
less suspicion. In Piedmont and Genoa, in the Milanese 
and the Venetian state, and indeed throughout all Lom- 
bard)', how well is the soil cultivated, and what manufac- 

* 1 Tim. v. 8. 



A WORD TO THE WISE. 131 

tures of silk, velvet, paper, and ether commodities, flou- 
rish ? The King of Sardinia will. suffer no idle hands in 
his territories, no beggar to live by the sweat of an- 
other's brow ; it has even been made penal at Turin, to 
relieve a strolling beggar. To which I might add, that 
the person, whose authority will be of the greatest weight 
with yop, even the Pope himself, is at this day endea- 
vouring to put new life into the trade and manufactures 
of his country. 

Though I am in no secret of the court of Rome, 
yet I will venture to affirm, that neither pope, nor car- 
dinals, will be pleased to hear, that those of their com- 
munion are distinguished, above all others, by sloth, 
dirt, and beggary ; or be displeased at your endeavour- 
ing to rescue them from the reproach of such an in- 
famous distinction. 

The case is as clear as the sun ; what we urge is en- 
forced by every motive that can work on a reasonable 
mind. The good of your country, your own private 
interest, the duty of your function, the cries and dis- 
tresses of the poor, do with one voice call for your assist* 
ance. And if it is on all hands allowed to be right and 
just, if agreeable both to reason and religion, if coin- 
cident with the views both of your temporal and spiritual 
superiors, it is to be hoped this address may find a fa- 
vourable reception, and that a zeal for disputed points 
will not hinder your concurring to propagate so plain 
and useful a doctrine, wherein we are all agreed. 

When a leak is to be stopped, or a fire extinguished, 
do not all hands co-operate without distinction of sect 
or party ? Or if I am fallen into a ditch, shall I not 
suffer a man to help me out, until I have first exa- 
mined his creed ? Or when I am sick, shall I refuse 
the physic, because my physician doth or doth not be- 
lieve the pope's supremacy ? 

Fas est et ab hoste doceri. But, in truth, I lam no ene- 



133 A WORD TO TH8 WI&E. 

my to your persons, whatever I may think of your tenets. 1 
On the contrary, I am your sincere well-wisher. I con- 
sider you as my countrymen, as fellow-subjects, as pro- 
fessing belief in the same Christ. And I do most sin- 
cerely wish, there was no other contest between us but 
Who shall most completely practise the precepts of him 
by whose name we are called, and whose disciples we all 
profess to be. 



LETTER 



TOTHK 



ROMAN CATHOLICS 



or TBS 



DIOCESS OF CLOYNE. 



PUBLISHED IN THE LATE REBELLION, A. D. 1745. 



LETTER, &c. 



MY COUNTRYMEN AND FELLOW-SUBJECTS, 

Notwithstanding the differences of our religious 
opinions, I should be sorry to be wanting in any instance 
of humanity or good neighbourhood to any of you. 
For which reason I find myself strongly inclined, at this 
critical juncture, to put you in mind, that you have been 
treated with a truly Christian lenity under the present 
government ; that your persons have been protected, 
and your properties secured by equal laws ; and that it 
would be highly imprudent as well as ungrateful to for- 
feit these advantages, by making yourselves tools to the 
ambition of foreign princes, who fancy it expedient to 
raise disturbances among us at present, but as soon as 
their own ends are served, will not fail to abandon you, 
as they have always done. 

Is it pot evident, that your true interest consists in 
lying still, and waiting the event, since Ireland must 
necessarily follow the fate of England ; and that there- 
fore prudence and policy prescribe quiet to the Roman 
catholics of this kingdom, who in case a change of 
hands should not succeed, after your attempting to bring 
it about, must then expect to be on a worse foot than 
ever? 

But we will suppose it succeeds to your wish. What 
then ? Would not this undermine even your own inte- 



136 A LETTER, &C. 

rests and fortune, which are often interwoven with those 
of your neighbours ? Would not all those, who have 
debts or money, or other effects in the hands of pro- 
testants, be fellow-sufferers with them ? Would not all 
those, who hold under the acts of settlement, be as lia- 
ble as protestants themselves to be dispossessed by the 
old proprietors ? Or, can even those, who are styled 
proprietors, flatter themselves with hopes of possessing 
the estates which they claim, which, in all likelihood, 
would be given to favourites (perhaps to foreigners), 
who are near the person, or who fought the battles, of 
their master. 

Under protestant governments, those of your com- 
munion have formerly enjoyed a greater share of the 
lands of this kingdom, and more ample privileges. You 
bore your part in the magistracy and the legislature, and 
could complain of no hardships on the score of your re- 
ligion. If these advantages have been since impaired 
or lost, was it not by the wrong measures yourselves 
took to enlarge them, in several successive attempts, 
each of which left you weaker and in a worse condition 
than you were before ? And this, notwithstanding the 
vaunted succours of France and Spain, whose vain ef- 
forts in conjunction with yours constantly recoiled on 
your own heads, even when your numbers and circum- 
stances were far more considerable than they now are ? 

You all know these things to be true. I appeal to 
your own breasts. Dear-bought experience hath taught 
you, and past times instruct the present. But perhaps 
you follow conscience rather than interest. Will any 
men amongst you pretend to plead conscience against 
being quiet, or against paying allegiance and peaceable 
submission to a protestant prince, which the first 
Christians paid even to heathen, and which those of 
your communion, at this day, pay to Mahometan and 
to idolatrous princes in Turkey and China, and which 
you yourselves have so often professed to pay to our 



A LETTER, &C. 



137 



present gracious sovereign ? Conscience is quite out of 
the case* And what man in his senses would engage 
in a dangerous course, to which neither interest doth 
invite, nor conscience oblige him ? 

I heartily wish, that this advice may be as well taken 
as it is meant, and that you may maturely consider your 
true interest, rather than rashly repeat the same errors 
which you have so often repented of. So recommend- 
ing you to the merciful guidance of Almighty God, I 
subscribe mysetf, 

Your real well-wisher, 



Geoiob Cloths. 



vol. in. 



V.l 



MAXIMS 



COKGBBVINO 



PATRIOTISM. 



* 2 



fl 



ill . i J . .1 w t « •• ' ■ * 



I i 



MAX IM S, &q. 



• • ■ ■ ■ ■ . •■ > 



l. lliTERY man, by consulting his own heart may easily 
know Whether he is or is not a patriot.' fiut it is not so 
easy for the by-standers. '/ 

2. Being loud and vehement either ag^inslt a court* 
or for a court, is no proof of patriotism. 

3. A man whose passion for money runs high bids 
fair for being no patriot. And he likewise whose appe- 
tite is keen for power. 

4. A native than a foreigner, a married man than a 
bachelor, a believer than an infidel, has a better chance 
for being a patriot. 

5. It is impossible an epicure should be a patriot. 

6. It is impossible a man who cheats at Cards, or 
cogs the dice, should be a patriot 

7. It is impossible a man who is false to fiis friends 
and neighbours should be true to the public. 

8. Every knave is a thorough knave. And a tho- 
rough knave is a knave throughout. 

g. A man who hath no sense of God or conscience : 
would you make such a one guardian to your child ? If 
not, why guardian to the state ? 

10. A sot, a beast, benumbed and stupefied by ex- 
cess, is good for nothing, much less to make a patriot of. 

1 1. A fop or man of pleasure makes but a scurvy 
patriot. 

12. A sullen churlish man, who loves nobody, will 
hardly love his country. 

13. The love of praise and esteem may do some* 
thing : but to make a true patriot there must be an in- 
ward sense of duty and conscience. 



// 



I4S MAXIMS CONCERNING PATRIOTISM. 

14. Honesty (like other things) grows from its pro- 
per seed, good principles early laid in the mind. 

15. To be a real patriot, a man must consider his 
countrymen as God's creatures; and hknself as account- 
able for his acting fowards'them. 

16. If pro arts etfocis be the life of patriotism, he 
who hath no religion or no home makes a suspected 
patriot. 

' ' ,' if? ^frn^ 1 ^^^ himself for the sake of con- 
B&£rice. 

18. There is an easy way of reconciling malecon- 
tehts.— Sunt verba et voces guibus kunc lenire dplorem, 

* ■ * * 
lj). A good groom will rather stroke than, strike. 

20. He who saith there is no such thing as an 
honest man, you may be sure is himself a knave. 

21. I have no opinion of your bumper patriots* 
Some eat, some drink, some quarrel, for their country. 
Modern Patriotism ! 

22. Ibycus is a carking, griping, closefisted fellow. 
It is odds that Ibycus is not a patriot. 

. 23. We are not to think every clamorous ha- 
tanguer, or every splenetic repiner against a court, is 
therefore a patriot. 

24. A patriot is one who heartily wisheth the public 
prosperity, and. doth not only wish, but also study and 
endeavour to promote it. 

25. Gamesters, fops, rakes, bullies, stockjotyers : 
alas ! what patriots ! 

26. Some writers have thought it impossible that 
men should be brought to laugh at public spirit. Tet 
this hath been done in the present age. 

. 27. The patriot aims at hia private good in the pub- 
lic. The knave makes the public subservient to his 
private interest. The former considers himself as part 
of a whole, the latter considers himself as the whole. 
28. There is and ever will be a natural strife be 



MAXIMS CONCERNING PATRIOTISM* 143 

tween court and country. The one will get as much, 
and the other give as little, as it can. How must the 
patriot behave himself? 

2Q. He gives the necessary. If he gives more, it is 
with a view of gaining more to his country. 

30. A patriot will never barter the public money for 
his private gain. 

31. Moral evil is never to be committed, physical 
evil may be incurred, other to avoid a greater evil, or 
to procure a good. 

32. Where the heart is right, there is true patri- 
otism. 

33. In your man of business, it is easier to meet 
with a good head than a good heart 

34. A patriot will admit there may be honest men, 
and that honest men may differ. 

35. He that always blames, or always praises, is no 
patriot. 

36. Were all sweet and sneaking courtiers, or were 
all sour malecontents ; in either case the public would 
thrive but ill. 

37* A patriot would hardly wish there was no con- 
trast in the state. 

38. Ferments of the worst kind succeed to perfect 
inaction. 

39. A man rages, rails, and raves ; I suspect his pa- 
triotism. 

40. The fawning courtier and the surly squire often 
mean the same thing, each his own interest. 

41. A patriot will esteem no man for being of his 
party. 

42. The factious man is apt to mistake himself for 
a patriot. 



i 1 



I 



t . 



■ , .' 



) 



t I 



"THE 



QUERIST. 



coOTAnrsito 



SEVERAL QUERIES, 



MOrOMB TO TBI 



CONSIDERATION OF THE PUBLIC. 



J . 



4 l 



ADVERTISEMENT 



BY THE AUTHOR. 



T hb Querist was first printed in the year one thousand 
seven hundred and thirty-five ; since which time the 
face of things is somewhat changed. In this edition 
some alterations have been made. The three parts are 
published in one; some few queries are added, and 
many omitted, particularly of those relating to the 
sketch or plan of a national bank ; which it may be time 
enough to take again in hand, when the public shall 
seem disposed to make use of such an expedient I had 
determined with myself never to prefix my name to the 
Querist, but in the last edition was overruled by a 
friend, who was remarkable for pursuing the public in- 
terest with as much diligence as others do their own. 
I apprehend the same censure on this, that I incurred 
upon another occasion, for meddling out of my profes- 
sion. Though to feed the hungry and clothe the naked, 
by promoting an honest industry, will, perhaps, be 
deemed no improper employment for a clergyman, who 
still thinks himself a member of the commonwealth. As 
the sum of human happiness is supposed to consist in 
the goods of mind, body, and fortune, I would fain make 
my studies of some use to mankind, with regard to each 
of these three particulars, and hope it will not be thought 
faulty or indecent in any man, of what profession soever, 
to offer his mite towards improving the manners, health, 
and prosperity, of his fellow-creatures. 



I / 



"J 



THE 



QUERIST. 



Qu. 1. Whether there ever was, is, or will be, an in- 
dustrious nation poor, or an idle rich ? 

2. Whether a people can be called poor, where the 
common sort are well fed, clothed, and lodged ? 

3. Whether the drift and aim of every wise state 
should not be, to encourage industry in its members ? 
And, whether those, who employ neither heads nor 
hands for the common benefit, deserve not to be ex- 
pelled like drones out of a well-governed state ? 

4. Whether the four elements, and man's labour 
therein, be not the true source of wealth ? 

5. Whether money be not only so far useful, as it 
stirreth up industry, enabling men mutually to partici- 
pate the fruits of each other's labour ? 

6. Whether any other means, equally conducing to 
excite and circulate the industry of mankind, may not 
be as useful as money ? 

7. Whether the real end and aim of men be not 
power ? And whether he who could have every thing 
else at his wish or will, would value money ? 

8. Whether the public sum in every well-governed 
state be not, that epch member, according to his just 
pretensions and industry, should have power ? 

Q. Whether power be not referred to action ; and 
whether action doth not follow appetite or will ? 

10. Whether fashion doth not create appetites ; and 
whether the prevailing will of a nation is not the 
fashion ? 



150 THB QUBEIST. 

1 1 . Whether the current of industry and commerce 
be not determined by this prevailing will ? 

12. Whether it be not owing to custom, that the 
fashions are agreeable ? 

13. Whether it may not concern the wisdom of the 
legislature to interpose in the making of fashions ; and 
not leave an affair of so great influence, to the manage- 
ment of women and fops, tailors and vintners ? 

14. Whether reasonable fashions are a greater re- 
straint on freedom than those which are unreasonable ? 

15. Whether a general good taste in a people would 
not greatly conduce to their thriving ? And whether 
an uneducated gentry be not the greatest of national 
evils? 

16. Whether customs and fashions do not supply 
the place of reason in the vulgar of all ranks ? Whe- 
ther, therefore, it doth not very much import that they 
should be wisely framed ? 

17* Whether the imitating those neighbours in our 
fashions, to whom we bear no likeness in our circum- 
stances, be not one cause of distress to this nation ? 

18. Whether frugal fashions in the upper rank, 
and comfortable living in the lower, be not the means 
to multiply inhabitants ? 

1 Q. Whether the bulk of our Irish natives are not 
kept from thriving, by that cynical content in dirt and 
beggary, which they possess to a degree beyond any other 
people in Christendom ? 

20. Whether the creating of wants be not the like- 
liest way to produce industry in a people ? And whether, 
if our peasants were accustomed to eat beef and wear 
shoes, they would not be more industrious ? 

2 1 • Whether other things be given, as climate, soil, 
&c. the wealth be not proportioned to the industry, and 
this to the circulation of credit, be the credit circulated 
or transferred by what marks or tokens soever ? 

22. Whether, therefore, less money, swiftly circa- 



THE OtflBIST. Ui4 

lating, be not, iri eflect, equivalent to more money slow- 
ly circulating ? Or, whether, if the circulation be reci- 
procally as the quantity of coin, the nation can be a 
loser? 

23. Whether money is to be considered as having 
an intrinsic value, or as being a commodity, a standard, 
a measure, or a pledge, as is variously suggested by 
writers ? And whether the true idea of money, as such, 
be not altogether that of a ticket or counter ? ■ • 

24. Whether the value or price of things, be not a 
compounded proportion, directly as the demand, and 
reciprocally as the plenty ? 

25. Whether the terms crown, livre, pound ster- 
ling, &e. are not to be considered as exponents or de- 
nominations of such proportion ? And whether gold, 
silver, and paper, are not tickets or counters for reck- 
oning, recording, and transferring thereof? 

26. Whether the denominations being retained, al- 
though the bullion were gone, things might not never- 
theless be rated, bought and sold, industry promoted, 
and a circulation of commerce maintained ? 

27* Whether an equal raising of all sorts of gold, 
silver, and copper coin, can have any effect in bringing 
money into the kingdom? And whether altering the 
proportions between the several sorts, can have any 
other effect but multiplying one kind and lessening 
another, without any increase of the sum total ? 

28. Whether arbitrary changing the denomination 
of coin, be not a public cheat ? 

29. What makes a wealthy people ? Whether mines 
of gold and silver are capable of doing this ? And whe- 
ther the negroes, amidst the gold sands of Africa, are not 
poor and destitute ? • * 

30. Whether there be any virtue in gold or silver, 
other than as they set people at work, or create indus- 
try? 

31. Whether it be not the opinion or will of the 



people^ ^citing them to industry, that truly enrichethi 
nation ) And whether this doth Hot principally depend 
on the means for counting, transferring, acid preserving 
power, that is, property of all kinds ? 

32. Whether if there was no silver or gold in the 
kingdom, our trade might n6t nevertheless supply bills 
of eiqhange, sufficient to answer the demands of ab- 
sentees in England, or elsewhere ? 

33. Whether current bank-notes may not be deem- 
ed money? And whether they are not actually the 
greater part of the roonfey of this kingdom ? . 

34. Provided the wheels move, whetherit is not the 
same thing, as to the effect of the machine, b& this done 
by the force of wind, or water, oranimak ? . 

35. Whether power to command the industry of 
others be not real wealth ? And whether money benbt 
in truth, tickets or tokens for conveying and recording 
such power, and whether k be of great conseqbence what 
materials the tickets are? made of \ 

36. Whether trade, either foreign or domestic, be 
in truth any more than this commerce of industry i 

37. Whether to promote, transfer, and sedure, this 
commerce, and this property in human labour, or, in 
other words, this power, be not the tole means of en- 
riching a people, and how far this may be done inde- 
pendently of gold and silver ? 

38. Whether it were not wrong to suppose land it* 
self to be wealth ? And whether the industry of the peo- 
ple is not first to be considered, aft that which consti- 
tutes wealth, which makes even land and silver to be 
wealth, neither of which would have any value, but as 
means and motives to industry ? 

39. Whether in the wastes of America a itaan might 
not possess twenty miles square of land, and yet want 
his dinner, or a coat to his back ? 

40. Whether a fertile land, and the industry of its 
inhabitants, would not prove inexhaustible funds of real 



TRB QUERIST. 15S 

* 

Wealth, be the counters fof conveying and recording 
thereof what you will, paper, gold, or silver ? 

4 J . Whether a single hint be sufficient to overcome 
a prejudice ? And whether even obvious truths will not 
sometimes bear repeating ? 

42. Whether if human labour be the true source of 
wealth, it doth not follow that idleness should of all 
thitigs be discouraged in a wise state ? » 

43. Whether even gold, or silver, if they should 
lessen the industry of its inhabitants, would not be ruin- 
ous to a country ? And whether Spain be not an instance 
of this? 

44. Whether the opinion of men, and their indus- 
try consequent thereupon, be not the true wealth of 
Holland, and not the silver supposed to be deposited in 
the bank at Amsterdam ? 

45. Whether there is in truth any such treasure 
lying dead ? And whether it be of great consequence to 
the public, that it should be real rather than notional ? 

46. Whether, in order to understand the true nature 
of wealth and commerce, it would not be right to con- 
sider a ship's crew cast upon a desert island, and by de- 
grees forming themselves to business and civil life, while 
industry begot credit, and credit moved to industry ? 

.47. Whether such men would not all set them j - 
selves to work ? Whether they would not subsist by the 
mutual participation of each other's industry ? Whether, 
when one man had in his way procured more than he 
could consume, he would not exchange his superfluities 
to supply his wants ? Whether this must not produce 
credit ? Whether, to facilitate these conveyances* to 
record and circulate this credit, they would not soon 
agree on certain tallies, tokens, tickets, or counters? 

48. Whether reflection in the better sort might not 
soon remedy our evils ? And whether our real defect be 
not a wrong way of thinking ? 

49. Whether it would not be an unhappy turn jn 
vol. hi. m 



154 ' THE QUERIST. 

our gentlemen, if they should take no more thought to 
create an interest to themselves in this or that country, 
or borough, than to promote the real interest of their 
country ? 

50. Whether if a man builds a house he doth not 
in the first place provide a plan which governs his work ? 
And shall the public act without an end, a view, a plan? 

51. Whether by how much the less particular folk 
think for themselves, the public be not so much the 
more obliged to think for them ? 

52. Whether small gains be not the way to great 
profit ? And if our tradesmen are beggars, whether 
they may not thank themselves for it ? 

53. Whether some way might not be found for 
making criminals useful in public works, instead of 
sending them either to America, or to the other world? 

54. Whether we may not, as well as other nations! 
contrive employment for them ? And whether servitude^ 
chains, and hard labour, for a term of years, would not 
be a more discouraging, as well as a more adequate 
punishment for felons, than even death itself? . 

55- Whether there are not such things in Holland 
as bettering houses for bringing young gentlemen to 
order ? And whether such an institution would be use* 
less among us ? 

56. Whether it be true, that the poor in Holland 
have no resource but their own labour, and yet there 
are no beggars in their streets ? 

57. Whether he whose luxury consumeth foreign 
products, and whose industry produceth nothing domes- 
tic to exchange for them, is not so far forth injurious 
to his country ? 

58. Whether necessity is not to be hearkened to be- 
fore convenience, and convenience before luxury ? 

59. Whether to provide plentifully for the poor, be 
not feeding the root, the substance whereof will shoot 
upwards into the branches, and cause the top ty> flourish ? 



THE QUERIST. 165 

60. Whether there be any instance of a state where- 
in the people, living neatly and plentifully, did not as* 
pire to wealth ? 

61. Whether nastiness and beggary do not, on the 
contrary, extinguish all such ambition, making men 
listless, hopeless, and slothful ? 

&J. Whether a country inhabited by a people well 
fed, clothed, and lodged, would not become every day 
more populous ? And whether a numerous stock o£ 
people in such circumstances would not constitute a 
flourishing nation ; and how far the product of our own 
country may suffice for the compassing this end. 

63. Whether a people, who had provided themselves 
with the necessaries of life in good plenty, would not 
soon extend their industry to new arts and new branches 
of commerce ? 

64. Whether those saitoe manufactured which Eng- 
land imports from other countries, may not be admitted 
from Ireland ? And, if so, whether lace, carpets, and 
tapestry, three considerable articles of English importa* 
tion, might not find encouragement in Ireland ? And 
whether an academy for design might not greatly con* 
duce to the perfecting those manufactures among us ? 

65. Whether France and Flanders could have drawn 
so much money from England, for figured silks, lace, 
and tapestry, if they had not had academies for design- 
ing? 

66. Whether, when a room was once prepared, and 
models in plaster of Paris, the expense of such an 
academy need stand the public in above two hundred 
pounds a year ? 

67. Whether our linen-manufacture would not find 
the benefit of this institution ? And whether there beany 
thing that makes us fall short of the Dutch in damasks, 
diapers, and printed linen, but our ignorance in design ? 

68. Whether those, who may slight this affair as 
notional, have sufficiently considered the extensive use 

m 2 



156 THK QUERIST. 

of the art of design, and its influence in most trades and 
manufactures, wherein the forms of things are often 
more regarded than the materials ?* 

69. Whether there be any art sooner learned than 
that of making carpets ? And whether our women, 
with little time and pains, may not make more beautiful 
carpets than those imported from Turkey ? And whe- 
ther this branch of the woollen-manufacture be not 
open to us ? 

70. Whether human industry can produce, from 
such cheap materials, a manufacture of so great value, 
by any other art, as by those of sculpture and painting ) 

71. Whether pictures and statues are not in fact so 
much treasure? And whether Rome and Florence 
would not be poor towns without them ? 

72. Whether they do not bring ready money, as 
well as jewels ? Whether in Italy debts are not paid, 
kffd children portioned with them, ae with gold and 
silver ? 

73. Whether it would not be more prudent, to strike 
out and exert ourselves in permitted branches of trade, 
than to fold our hands, and repine that we are not al- 
lowed the woollen ) 

74. Whether it be true that two millions are yearly 
expended by England by foreign lace and linen ? 

75. Whether immense sums are not drawn yearly 
into the northern countries, for supplying the British 
navy with hempen manufactures ? 

76. Whether there be any thing more pitofltaMe 
than hemp ? And whether there should not be greater 
premiums for encouraging our hempen-trade ? What 
advantages may not Great Britain make of a country 
where land and labour are so cheap ? 

77. Whether Ireland alone might not raise hemp 
sufficient for the British navy ? And whether it would 

* Since the first publication of this query, the art of design 
. seems to be more considered and countenanced among us. . 



THE QVKJUST. 157 



not be vain to expect this from the British colonies in 
America, where hands are so scarce, and labour so ex- 
cessively dear ? 

78. Whether if our own people want will or capa- 
city for such an attempt, it might not be worth while 
for some undertaking spirits in England to make set- 
tlements, and raise hemp in the counties of Clare and 
Limerick, than which, perhaps, there is not fitter land 
in the world for that purpose ? And whether both na- 
tions would not find their advantage therein ? 

79* Whether if all the idle hands in this kingdom 
were employed on hemp and flax, we might not find 
sufficient vent for these manufactures ? 

80. How far it may be in our own power to better 
our affairs, without interfering with our neighbours ? 

81. Whether the prohibition of our woollen-trade, 
ought not naturally to put us on other methods, which 

give no jealousy ? 

82. Whether paper be not a valuable article of com- 
merce? And whether it be not true, that one single 
bookseller in London yearly expended above four thou- 
sand pounds in that foreign commodity ? 

83. How it comes to pass that the Venetians and 
Genoese, who wear so much less linen, and so much 
worse than we do, should yet make very good paper, 
and in great quantity, while we make very little ? 

84. How long it will be before my countrymen find 
out, that it is worth while to spend a penny, in order to 
get a groat ? 

85. If all die land were tilled that is fit for tillage, 
and all that sowed with hemp and flax that is fit for 
raising them, whether we should have much sheep-walk 
beyond what was sufficient to supply the necessities of 
the kingdom? 

86. Whether other countries have not flourished 
without the woollen-trade ? 

87. Whether it be not a sure sign, or effect of a 



158 THE aUBBIST. 

country's thriving, to see it well cultivated and foil of 
inhabitants ? And, if so, whether a great quantity of 
pheep-walk be not ruinous to a country, rendering it 
waste and thinly inhabited ? 

88. Whether the employing so much of our land 
under sheep, be not in fact an Irish blunder ? 

8Q. Whether our hankering after our woollen-trad^ 
be not the true aqd only reason, which hath cre- 
ated a jealousy in England towards Ireland ? And 
whether any thing can hurt us more than such jea- 
lousy ) 

. . 90. Whether it be not the true interest of both na- 
tions to become one people ? And whether either be 
sufficiently apprised of this ? 

91. Whether the upper part of this people are not 
truly English, by blood, language, religion, manners, in- 
clination, and interest ? 

92. Whether we are not as much Englishmen as 
the children of old Romans, born in Britain, were still 
Romans ? 

93. Whether it be not our true interest, not to in- 
terfere with them ; and, in every other case, whether it 
be not their true interest to befriend us ? 

94. Whether a mint in Ireland might not be of 
great convenience to the kingdom ; and whether it 
could be attended with any possible inconvenience to 
Great Britain ? And whether there were not mints in 
Naples and in Sicily, when those kingdoms were pro* 
vinces to Spain, or the house of Austria ? 

95. Whether any thing can be more ridiculous, 
than for the north of Ireland to be jealous of a linen 
manufacture in the south ? 

96. Whether the county of Tipperary be not much 
better land than the county of Armagh ; and yet who* 
ther the latter is not much better improved and inha- 
bited than the former ? 

97. Whether every landlord in the kingdom doth 



9HE ftUEKlST. 159 

not know the cause of this ? And yet how few are the . 
better for such their knowledge ! 

98. Whether large farms under few hands, or small 
ones under many, are likely to be made most of? And 
whether flax and tillage do not naturally multiply hands* 
and divide lands into small holdings, and well-improved ? 

gg. Whether, as our exports are lessened, we ought 
not to lessen our imports ? And whether these will not 
be lessened as our demands, and these as our wants, and 
these as our customs or fashions ? Of how great con- 
sequence therefore are fashions to the public ? 

100. Whether it would not be more reasonable to 
mend our state than complain of it ; and how far this 
may be in our own power ? 

101. What the nation gains by those who live in 
Ireland upon the produce of foreign countries ? 

102. How far the vanity of our ladies in dressing, 
and of our gentlemen in drinking, contribute to the ge- 
neral misery of the people ? 

103. Whether nations, as wise and opulent as outs, 
have not made sumptuary laws ; and what hinders us 
from doing the same ? 

104. Whether those who drink foreign liquors, and 
deck themselves and their families with foreign orna- 
ments, are not so far forth to be reckoned absehtees ? 

105. Whether, as our trade is limited, we ought 
not to limit our expenses ; and whether this be not the 
natural and obvious remedy ? '. ! : 

106. Whether the dirt, and famine, and nakbdness, 
of the bulk of our people, might not be remedied, even 
although we had no foreign trade? And whether* this 
should not be our first care ; and whether, if this were 
once provided for, the conveniences of the rich ttould 
not soon follow ? 

10y. Whether comfortable living doth hot produce 
wants, and wants industry, and industry wealth ? 

108. Whether there is not a great difference be- 



160 THE QUERIST. 

tween Holland and Ireland ? And whether foreign com- 
merce, without which the one could not subsist, be so 
necessary for the other ? 

109. Might we not put a hand to the plough, or 
the spade, although we had no foreign commeroe ? 

110. Whether the exigencies of nature are not to 
be answered by industry on our own soil ? and how far ' 
the conveniences and comforts of life may be procured, 
by a domestic commerce between the several parts of 
this kingdom ? 

ill. Whether the women may not sew, spin, 
weave, embroider, sufficiently fpr the embellishment of 
their persons, and even enough to raise envy in each 
other, without being beholden to foreign countries ? 

112. Suppose the bulk of our inhabitant* had shoes 
to their feet, clothes to their backs, and beef in their 
bellies, might not such a state be eligible. for the pub- 
lic, even though the squires were condemned to drink 
ale and cider ? 

113. Whether if drunkenness be a necessary evil, men 
may not as well drink the growth of their own country? 

114. Whether a nation within itself might not have 
real wealth, sufficient to give its inhabitants power and 
distinction, without the help of gold and silver ? 

115. Whether, if the arts of sculpture and painting 
were encouraged among us, we might not furnish, our 
houses in a much nobler manner with our own manufac- 
tures? 

1 1 6. Whether we have not or may not hate, all 
the necessary materials for building pt home ? 

117* Whether tiles and plaster may not supply the 
place of Norway fir, for flooring and wainscot? 

118. Whether plaster be not warmer, as well as 
more secure, than deal? And whether a modern fa- 
shionable house, lined with fir, daubed over with oil 
and paint, be not like a fire-ship, ready to be lighted up 
by all accidents ? 



THE QUERIST. 161 

119. Whether larger houses, better built and fur* 
nished, a greater train of servants, the difference with re- 
gard to equipage and table, between finer and coarser, 
more and less elegant, may not' be sufficient to feed a 
reasonable share of vanity, or support all proper distinc- 
tions i And whether all these may not be procured, by 
domestic industry out of the four elements, without 
ransacking the four quarters of the globe ? 

1 20. Whether any thing is a nobler ornament, in 
the eye of the world, than an Italian palace, that is, 
stone and mortar skilfully put together, and adorned 
yith sculpture and painting ; and whether this may not 
be compassed without foreign trade ? 

121. Whether an expense in gardens and planta- 
tions would not be an elegant distinction for the rich, a 
domestic magnificence, employing many hands within, 
and drawing nothing from abroad ? 

] 22. Whether the apology which is made for fo- 
reign luxury in England, to wit, that they cppld not 
carry on their trade without imports as well as exports, 
will hold in Ireland? 

123. Whether one may not be allowed to conceive 
and suppose a society, or nation of human creatures, 
clad in woollen cloths, and stuffs, eating good bread, 
beef, and mutton, poultry and fish, in great plenty, 
drinking ale, mead, and cider, inhabiting decent houses 
built of brick and marble, taking their pleasure in fair 
parks and gardens, depending on no foreign imports 
either for food or raiment i And whether such people 
ought much to be pitied ? 

124. Whether Ireland be not as well qualified for 
such a state as any nation under the sun ? 

125. Whether in such a state the inhabitants may 
not contrive to pass the twenty-four hours, with tolera- 
ble ease and cheerfulness ? and whether any people 
upon earth can do more ? 

126. Whether they may not eat, drink, play, dress, 



Iflfc THE QUERIST. 

visit, sleep in good beds, sit by good fires, build, plant, 
raise a name, make estates, and spend them ? 

127* Whether, upon the whole, a domestic trade 
may not suffice in such a country as Ireland, to nourish 
and clothe its inhabitants, and provide them with the 
reasonable conveniences and even comforts of life ? 

128. Whether a general habit of living well would 
not produce numbers and industry ; and whether, con- 
sidering the tendency of human kind, the consequence 
thereof would not be foreign trade and riches, how un- 
necessary soever ? 

129. Whether, nevertheless, it be a crime to in- 
quire how far we may do without foreign trade, and 
what would follow on such a supposition ? 

130. Whether the number and welfare of the sub- 
jects be not the true strength of the crown ? 

131. Whether in all public institutions, there should 
not be an end proposed, which is to be the rule and li- 
mit of the means ? Whether this end should not be the 
well-being of the whole ? And whether, in order to this, 
the first step should not be to clothe and feed our peo- 
ple? • ' 

132. Whether there be upon earth any Christian 
or civilized people, so beggarly, wretched, and destitute, 
as the common Irish ? 

133. Whether, nevertheless, there is any other 
people whose wants may be more easily supplied from 
home ? 

134. Whether, if there was a wall of brass a thou- 
sand cubits high, round this kingdom, our natives 
might not nevertheless live cleanly and comfortably, till 
the land and reap the fruits of it ? 

135. What Bhould hinder us from exerting our* 
selves, using our hands and brains, doing something or 
other, man, woman, and child, like the other inhabit- 
ants of God's -earth ? 

136. Be the restraining our trade well or ill advised 



THE QUBJEU6T. 

in our neighbours, with respect to their own interest, 
yet whether it be not plainly ours to accommodate our- 
selves to it ? 

187. Whether it be not vain to think of persuad- 
ing other people to see their interest, while we continue 
blind to our own ? 

138. Whether there be any other nation possessed 
of so much good land, and so mafiy able hands to work 
it, which yet is beholden for bread to foreign countries? 

1 30. Whether it be true, that we import corn to 
the value of two hundred thousand pounds in some 
years?* 

140. Whether we are not undone by fashions made 
for other people ? And whether it be not madness in a 
poor nation to imitate a rich one ? 

141. Whether a woman of fashion ought not to be 
declared a public enemy ? 

142. Whether it be not certain, that from the sin- 
gle town of Cork were exported, in one year, no less 
than one hundred and seven thousand one hundred 
sixty-one barrels of beef ; seven thousand three hun? 
dred and seventy-nine barrels of pork ; thirteen thou- 
sand four hundred and sixty-one casks, and eighty-five 
thousand seven hundred and twenty-seven firkins of 
butter ? And what hands were employed in this manu- 
facture ? 

143. Whether a. foreigner could imagine, that one 
half of the people were starving, in a country which sent 
Out such plenty of provisions ? 

144. Whether an Irish lady, set out with French, 
silks, and Flanders lace, may not be said to consume 
more beef and butter than a hundred of our labouring 
peasants? 

145. Whether nine tenths of our foreign trade be 
not carried on singly to support the article of vanity ? 

* Things are now better in respect of this particular, and some 
others, than they were when the Querist Was first published. 



164 THE QUERIST. 

146. Whether it can be hoped, that private persons 
will not indulge this folly, unless restrained by the public? 

147. How vanity is maintained in other countries? 
Whether in Hungary, for instance, a proud nobility are 
not subsisted with small imports from abroad ? 

148. Whether there be a prouder people upon earth 
than the noble Venetians, although they all wear plain 
black clothes ? 

14g. Whether a people are to be pitied, that will 
not sacrifice their little particular vanities to the public 
good ? And yet, whether each part would not except 
their own foible from this public sacrifice, the squire his 
bottle, the lady her lace ? 

1 50. Whether claret be not often drunk rather for 
vanity than for health, or pleasure ? 

151. Whether it be true, that men of nice palates 
have been imposed on, by elder wine for French claret, 
and by mead for palm sack ? 

152. Do not Englishmen abroad purchases beei and 
eider at ten times the price of wine ? 

153. How many gentlemen are there in England of 
a thousand pounds per annum, who never drink wine 
in their own houses ? Whether the same may be said 
of any in Ireland who have even one hundred pounds 
per annum ? 

154. What reason have our neighbours in Eng- 
land for discouraging French wines, which may not hold 
with respect to us also ? ~ • 

155. How much of the necessary sustenance of our 
people is yearly exported for brandy ? 

156. Whether, if people must poison themselves, 
they had not better do it with their own growth ? 

157. If we imported neither claret from France, 
nor fir from Norway, what the nation would save by it ? 

158. When the root yieldeth insufficient nourish- 
ment, whether men do not top the tree to make the 
lower branches thrive ? 



THE QUERIST. 165 

159* Whether, if our ladies drank sage or balm tea 
out of Irish ware, it would be an insupportable national 
calamity ? 

160. Whether it be really true, that such wine is 
best as most encourages drinking* i. e. that must be given 
in the largest dose to produce its effect ? And whether 
this holds with regard to any other medicine ? 

161. Whether that trade should not be accounted 
most pernicious, wherein the balance is most against 
us ? And whether this be not the trade with France ? 

162. Whether it be not even madness, to encou- 
rage trade with a nation that takes nothing of our ma* 
nufacture ? 

163* Whether Ireland can hope to thrive, if the 
major part of her patriots shall be found in the French 
interest ? 

164. Whether great plenty and variety of excellent 
wines are not to be had on the coasts of Italy and Sicily ? 
And whether those countries would not take our com- 
modities of linen, leather, butter, &c. in exchange for 
them? 

165. Particularly, whether the Finum Mamerti- 
num, which grows on the mountains about Messina, a 
fed generous wine* highly esteemed (if we may credit 
Pliny) by the ancient Romans, would not come cheap, 
and please the palates of our islanders ? 

166. Why, if a bribe by the palate or the purse be in 
effect the same thing, they should not be alike infamous ? 

167. Whether the vanity and luxury of a few ought 
to stand in competition with the interest of a nation? 

168. Whether national wants ought not to be the 
rule of trade ? And whether the most pressing wants of 
the majority ought not to be first considered ? 

169. Whether it is possible the country should be 
well improved, while our . beef is exported, and our la- 
bourers live upon potatoes ? 



186 THB QUERIST. 

170. If it be resolved that we cannot do without 
foreign trade, whether, at least, it may not be worth 
while to consider what branches thereof deserve to be 
entertained, and how far we may be able to carry it on 
under our present limitations ? 

171* What foreign imports may be necessary for 
clothing and feeding the families of persons not worth 
above one hundred pounds a year ? And how many 
wealthier there are in the kingdom, and what propor- 
tion they bear to the other inhabitants ? 

172. Whether trade be not then on a right foot, 
when foreign commodities are imported in exchange 
only for domestic superfluities ? 

173. Whether the quantities of beef, butter, wool, 
and leather, exported from this island, can be reckoned 
the superfluities of a country, where there are so many 
natives naked and famished ? 

174. Whether it would not be wise so to order our 
trade, as to export manufactures rather than provisions, 
and of those such as employ most hands ? 

175. Whether she would not be a very vile matron, 
and justly thought either mad or foolish, that should 
give away the necessaries of life from her naked and 
famished children, in exchange for pearls to stick 
in her hair, and sweetmeats to please her own pa- 
late? 

176. Whether a nation might not be considered as 
a family ? 

177. Whether the remark made by a Venetian am- 
bassador to Cardinal Richelieu — " That France needed 
nothing to be rich and easy, but to know how to spend 
what she dissipates' 4 — may not be of use also to other 
people ? 

178. Whether hungry cattle will not leap over 
bounds ? And whether most men are not hungry in a 
country where expensive fashions obtain ? 



THE QUERIST, 167 

1 79. Whether there should not be published year- 
ly, schedules of our trade, containing an account of the 
imports and exports of the foregoing year 1 

180. Whether other methods may not be found for 
supplying the funds, besides the custom on things im- 
ported? 

181. Whether any art or manufacture be so diffi- 
cult as the making of good laws? 

182. Whether our peers and gentlemen are born 
legislators? Or, whether that faculty be acquired by 
study and reflection ? 

183. Whether to comprehend the real interest of 
a people, and the means to procure it, do not imply 
some fund of knowledge, historical, moral, and political, 
with a faculty of reason improved by learning ? 

184. Whether every enemy to learning be not a 
Goth ? And whether every such Goth among us be not 
an enemy to the country ? 

185. Whether, therefore, it would not be an 
omen of ill presage, a dreadful phenomenon in the 
land, if our great men should take it in their heads to 
deride learning and education ? 

1 86. Whether, on the contrary, it should not seem 
worth while to erect a mart of literature in this king-' 
dom, under wise regulations and better discipline than 
in any other part of Europe ? And whether this would 
not be an infallible means of drawing n*en and money 
into the kingdom ? 

187. Whether the governed be not too numerous 
for the governing part of our college ? And whether it 
might not be expedient to convert thirty native-places 
into twenty fellowships ? 

188. Whether, if we had two colleges, there might 
not spring a useful emulation between them? And 
whether it might not be contrived, so to divide the fel- 
lows, scholars, and revenues, between both, as that no 
member should be a loser thereby ? 



108 THE QUERIST. 

1 89. Whether' ten thousand pounds well laid out 
might not build a decent college, fit to contain two hun- 
dred persons ; and whether the purchase-money of the? 
chambers would not go a godd way towards defraying 
the expense ? 

190. Where this college should be situated ? ' 

191. Whether in imitation of the Jesuits at Paris, 
who admit protestants to study in their colleges, it may 
itot be right for us also to admit Roman catholics into our 
college, without obliging them to attend chapel duties, 
or catechisms, or divinity-lectures ? And whether thitf 
might not keep money in the kingdom, and prevent the 
prejudices of a foreign education ? 

192. Whether it is possible a state should not thrive, 
whereof the lower part were industrious, and the upper* 
wise ? 

193. Whether the collected wisdom of ages and na- 
tions be not found in books ? 

194. Whether Themistocles's art of making a lit- 
tle city, or a little people become a great one, be learn- 
ed any where so well as in the writings of the an- 
cients ? 

195. Whether a wise state hath any interest nearer 
heart than the education of youth ? 

196. Whether the. mind, like soil, doth not by dis- 
use grow stiff; and whether reasoning and study be not 
like stirring and dividing the glebe ? 

197. Whether an early habit of reflection, although 
obtained by speculative sciences, may not have its use 
in practical affairs ? 

198. Whether even those parts of academical learn- 
ing which are quite forgotten, may not have improved 
and enriched the soil, like those vegetables which are 
raised, not for themselves, but ploughed in for a dress- 
ing of land ? 

199. Whether it was not an Irish professor who 
first opened the public schools at Oxford ? Whether 



ZH£ QUERIST. 108 

this island' hath not been anciently famous for learning ? 
And whether at this day it hath any better chance for 
being considerable ? 

200. Whether we may not with better grace sit 
down and complain, when we have done all that lies in 
our power to help ourselves ? 

201. Whether the gentleman of estate hath a right 
to be idle ; and whether he ought not to be the great 
promoter and director of industry among his tenants 
and neighbours ? 

202. Whether in the cantons of Switzerland all 
under thirty years of age are not excluded from their 
great councils ? 

203. Whether Homer's compendium of education, 

§ 

MvBvv per faTfjp epevai, irprjicrf)pa re epywv, — Iliad ix. 

would not be a good rule for modern educators of youth ? 
And whether half the learning and study .of these king- 
doms is not useless, for want of a proper delivery and 
pronunciation being taught in our schools and colleges? 

204. Whether in any order a good building can be 
made of bad materials ? Or whether any form of go- 
vernment can make a happy state out of bad indi- 
viduals? 

205. What was it that Solomon compared to a 
jewel of gold in a swine's snout ? 

206. Whether the public is more concerned in any 
thing than in th£ procreation of able citizens ? 

207* Whether to the multiplying of human kind, it 
would not much conduce, if marriages were made with 
good-liking? 

208. Whether, if women had no portions, we should 
then see so many unhappy and unfruitful marriages ? 

209. Whether the laws be not, according to Aris- 
totle, a mind without appetite, or passion ? And con- 
sequently without respect of persons ? 

210. Suppose a rich man's son marries a poor man's 

VOL. III. N 



170 THE QUERIST. 

daughter, suppose also that a poor man's daughter is 
deluded and debauched by the son of a rich man ; which 
is most to be pitied ? 

211. Whether the punishment should be placed on 
the seduced or the seducer ? 

212. Whether a promise made before God and man 
in the most solemn manner ought to be violated ? 

213. Whether it was Plato's opinion that " for the 
good of the community, rich should marry with rich ?" 
De Leg. lib. iv. 

214. Whether as seed equally scattered produced) a 
goodly harvest, even so an equal distribution of wealth 
doth not cause a nation to flourish ? 

215. Whence is it that Barbs and Arabs are so good 
horses ? . And whether in those countries they are not 
exactly nice in admitting none but males of a good kind 
to their mares ? 

21 6. What effects would the same care produce in 
families ? 

217. Whether the real foundation for wealth must 
not be laid in the numbers, the frugality, and the in- 
dustry, of the people ? And whether all attempts to en- 
rich a nation by other means, as raising the coin, stock- 
jobbing, and such arts, are not vain ? 

218. Whether a door ought not to be shut against 
all other methods of growing rich, save only by industry 
and merit ? And whether wealth got otherwise would 
not be ruinous to the public ? 

219. Whether the abuse of banks and paper-money 
is a just objection against the use thereof? And whe- 
ther such abuse might not easily be prevented ? 

220. Whether national banks are not found useful 
in Venice, Holland, and Hamburgh ? And whether it 
is not possible to contrive one that may be useful also 
in Ireland ? 

221. Whether the banks of Venice and Amsterdam 
are not in the hands of the public ? 



THB QUERIST. 171 

222: Whether it may not be worth while to inform 
ourselves in the nature of those banks? And what 
reason can be assigned, why Ireland should not reap 
the benefit of such public banks as well as other coun- 
tries? 

223. Whether a bank of national credit, supported 
by public funds and secured by parliament, be a chimera 
or impossible thing ; and if not, what would follow from 
the supposal of such a bank ? 

224. Whether the currency of a credit so well se- 
cured would not be of great advantage to our trade and 
manufactures ? 

225.. Whether the notes of such public bank would 
not have a more general circulation than those of private 
banks, as being less subject to frauds and hazards ? 

226. Whether it be not agreed, that paper hath in 
many respects the advantage above coin, as being of 
more dispatch in payments, more easily transferred, pre- 
served, and recovered when lost ? 

227. Whether, besides these advantages, there be 
not an evident necessity for circulating credit by paper, 
from the defect of coin in this kingdom ? 

228. Whether it be rightly remarked by some, that, 
as banking brings no treasure into the kingdom like 
trade, private wealth must sink as the bank riseth ? And 
whether whatever causeth industry to flourish and cir- 
culate, may not be said to increase our treasure ? 

229. Whether the ruinous effects of the Mississippi, 
South-sea, and such schemes, were not owing to an 
abuse of paper-money or credit, in making it a means 
for idleness and gaming, instead of a motive and help to 
industry ? 

230. Whether the rise of the bank of Amsterdam 
was not purely casual, for the sake of security and dis- 
patch of payments? And whether the good effects 
thereof, in supplying the place of coin, and promoting 
It ready circulation of industry and commerce, may not * 

n2 



17*2 THE QUERIST. 

be a lesson to us, to do that by design which others fell 
Upon by chanfce ? 

23 1 . Whether plenty of small cash be not abso- 
lutely necessary for keeping up a circulation among the 
people ; that is, whether copper be not more necessary 
thati gold ? 

232. Whether that which increaseth the stock of 
a nation, be not a means of increasing its trade ? And 
whether that, which increaseth the current credit of a 
nation, may not be said to increase its stock ? 

233. Whether the credit of the public funds be not 
a mine of gold to England ? And whether any step 
that should lessen this credit ought not to be dreaded ? 

234. Whether such credit be not the principal ad- 
vantage that England hath over France ? I may add, 
over every other country in Europe ? 

235. Whether by this the public is not become 
possessed of the wealth of foreigners as well as natives ? 
And whether England be not in some sort the treasury 
of Christendom ? 

236. Whether as our current domestic credit grew, 
industry would not grow likewise ; and if industry, our 
manufactures ; and if these, our foreign credit ? 

237 . Whether foreign demands may not be an- 
swered by our exports without drawing cash out of the 
kingdom ? 

238. Whether as industry increased, our manufac- 
tures would not flourish ; and as these flourished, whe- 
ther better returns would not be made from estates to 
their landlords, both within and without the kingdom i 

239. Whether the sure way to supply people with 
tools and materials, and to set them at work, be not a 
free circulation of money, whether silver or paper ? 

240. Whether in New-England, all trade and busi- 
ness are not as much at a stand, upon a scarcity of paper- 
money, as with us from the want of specie ? 

241. Whether it be certain, that the quantity of 



THE QUEBIST. 173 

silver in the bank of Amsterdam be greater now than at 
first ; but whether it be not certain that there is a greater 
circulation of industry and extent of trade, more people, 
ships, houses, and commodities of all sorts, more power 
by sea and land ? 

242. Whether money, lying dead in the bank of 
Amsterdam, would not be as useless as in the mine ? 

243. Whether our visible security in land could be 
doubted ? And whether there be any thing like this in 
the bank of Amsterdam ? 

244. Whether it be just to apprehend danger from 
trusting a national bank with power to extend its credit, 
to circulate notes which it shall be felony to counterfeit, 
to receive goods on loans, to purchase lands, to sell also 
or alienate them, and to deal in bills of exchange ; whea 
these powers are no other than have been trusted for 
many years with the bank of England, although in truth 
but a private bank ? . 

245. Whether the objection from monopolies and 
an overgrowth of power, which are made against pri- 
vate banks, can possibly hold against a national one ? ' 

246. Whether the evil effects, which of late years 
have attended paper-money and credit in Europe, did 
not spring from subscriptions, shares, dividends, and 
stockjobbing ? 

247. Whether the great evils attending paper-money 
in the British plantations of America, have not sprung 
from the overrating their lands, and issuing paper with- 
out discretion, and from the legislators breaking their 
own rules in favour of themselves, thus sacrificing the 
public to their private benefit ? And whether a little 
sense and honesty might not easily prevent all such in- 
conveniences ? 

248. Whether the subject of free-thinking in reli- 
gion be not exhausted ? And whether it be not high 
time for our free-thinkers to turn their thoughts to the 
improvement of their country ? 



174 THE QUERIST. 

lig. Whether it must not be ruinous for a nation 
to sit down to game, be it with silver or with paper ? 

250. Whether, therefore, the circulating paper, in 
the late ruinous schemes of France and England, was 
the true evil, and not rather the circulating thereof 
without industry ? And whetherthe bank of Amster- 
dam, where industry had been for so many years sub- 
sisted and circulated by transfers on paper, doth not 
clearly decide this point ? 

251. Whether there are not to be seen in America 
fair towns, wherein the people are well lodged, fed, and 
clothed, without a beggar in their streets, although there 
be not one grain of gold or silver current among them ? 

252. Whether these people do not exercise all arts 
and trades, build ships and navigate them to all parts of 
the world, purchase lands, till and reap the fruits of 
them, buy and sell, educate and provide for their chil- 
dren ? Whether they do not even indulge themselves 
in foreign vanities ? 

253. Whether, whatever inconveniences those peo- 
ple may have incurred, from not observing either roles 
or bounds in their paper-money, yet it be not certain 
that they are in a more flourishing condition, have 
larger and better built towns, more plenty, more in- 
dustry, more arts and civility, and a more extensive 
commerce, than when they had gold and silver current 
among them ? 

254. Whether a view of the ruinous effects of ab- 
surd schemes and credit mismanaged, so as to produce 
gaming and madness instead of industry, can be any 
just objection against a national bank calculated purely 
to promote industry ? 

255. Whether a scheme for the welfare of this na- 
tion should not take in the whole inhabitants ? And 
whether it be not a vain attempt, to project the flourish- 
ing of our protestant gentry, exclusive of the bulk of the 
natives ? 



THE QUERIST. 175 

256. Whether an oath, testifying allegiance to the 
king and disclaiming the pope's authority in temporals, 
may not be justly required of the Roman catholics ? 
And whether, in common prudence or policy, any priest 
should be tolerated who refuseth to take it ? 

257. Whether there is any such thing as a body of 
inhabitants, in any Roman catholic country under the 
sun, that profess an absolute submission to the pope's 
orders in matters of an indifferent nature, or that in 
such points do not think it their duty to obey the civil 
government ? 

258. Whether since the peace of Utrecht, mass was 
not celebrated, and the sacraments administered in 
divers diocesses of Sicily, notwithstanding the pope's 
interdict ? 

259. Whether a sum, which would go but a little 
way towards erecting hospitals for maintaining and edu- 
cating the children of the native Irish, might not go 
far in binding them out apprentices to protestant 
masters, for husbandry, useful trades, and the service of 
families ? 

260. Whether there be any instance of a people's 
being converted in a Christian sense, otherwise than by 
preaching to them and instructing them in their own 
language? 

261. Whether catechists in the Irish tongue may 
not easily be procured and subsisted ? And whether 
this would not be the most practicable means for con- 
verting the natives ? 

262. Whether it be not of great advantage to the 
church of Rome, that she hath clergy suited to all ranks 
of men, in gradual subordination from cardinals down to 
mendicants ? 

263. Whether her numerous poor clergy are not 
very useful in missions, and of much influence with the 
people ? 

264. Whether in defect of able missionaries, 



176 THB aUBRIST. 

sons conversant in low life, and speaking the Irish 
tongue, if well instructed in the first principles of reli- 
gion and in the popish controversy, though for the rest 
on a level with the parish clerks, or the schoolmasters of 
charity-schools, may not be fit to mix with and bring 
over our poor illiterate natives to the established church? 
Whether it is not to be wished that some parts of our 
Liturgy and homilies were publicly read in the Irish 
language ? And whether, in these views, it may not be 
right to breed up some of the better sort of children 
in the charity-schools, and qualify them for mission- 
aries, catechists, and readers ? 

265. Whether a squire possessed of land to the value 
of a thousand pounds per annum, or a merchant worth 
twenty thousand pounds in cash, would have most power 
to do good or evil upon any emergency ? And whether 
the suffering Roman catholics to purchase forfeited 
lands, would not be good policy, as tending to unite 
their interest with -that of the government? 

266. Whether the sea-ports of Galway, Limerick, 
Cork, and Waterford, are not to be looked on as keys df 
this kingdom ? And whether the merchants are not pos- 
sessed of these keys ; and who are the most numerous 
merchants in those cities ? 

267 . Whether a merchant cannot more speedily raise 
a sum, more easily conceal or transfer his effects, and en* 
gage in any desperate design with more safety, than a 
landed man, whose estate is a pledge for his behaviour ? 

268. Whether a wealthy merchant bears not great 
sway among the populace of a trading city ? And whe- 
ther power be not ultimately lodged in the people ? 

269. Whether, as others have supposed an Atlantis 
or Eutopia, we also may not suppose an hyperborean 
island inhabited by reasonable creatures ? 

270. Whether an indifferent person, who looks into 
all hands, may not be a better judge of the game than 
a party who sees only his own,? 



THE QUERIST. 177 

27 1 . Whether there be any country in Christendom 
more capable of improvement than Ireland ? 

27 2, Whether we are not as far before other nations 
with respect to natural advantages, as we are behind 
them with respect to arts and industry ? 

273. Whether we do not live in a most fertile soil 
and temperate climate, and yet whether our people in 
general do not feel great want and misery ? 

274. Whether my countrymen are not readier at 
finding excuses than remedies ? 

275. Whether the wealth and prosperity of our 
country do not hang by a hair, the probity of one 
banker, the caution of another, and the lives of all ? 

276. Whether we have not been sufficiently admo- 
nished of this by some late events ? 

277* Whether a national bank would not at once 
secure our properties, put an end to usury, facilitate 
commerce, supply the want of coin, and produce ready 
payments in all parts of the kingdom ? 

278. Whether the use or nature of money, which 
all men so eagerly pursue, be yet sufficiently understood 
or considered by all ? 

279. What doth Aristotle mean by. saying ■ ■ 

Ajjpoc civac Soicci to vofiiofia.'^'De Repub. lib. ix. 9* 

280. Whether mankind are not governed by imita- 
tion rather than by reason ? 

28 1. Whether there be not a measure or limit, with- 
in which gold and silver are useful, and beyond which 
they may be hurtful ? 

282. Whether that measure be not the circulating 
of industry ? 

263. Whether a discovery of the richest gold mine 
that ever was, in the heart of this kingdom, would be 
a real advantage to us ? 

284. Whether it would not tempt foreigners to 
prey upon us ? 



178 THE QUERIST. 

285. Whether it would not render us a lazy, 
proud, and dastardly people ? 

286. Whether every man who had money enough 
would not be a gentleman? and whether a nation of 
gentlemen would not be a wretched nation ? 

287. Whether all things would not bear a high 
price ? And whether men would not increase their for- 
tunes without being the better for it ? 

286. Whether the same evils would be apprehended 
from paper-money under an honest arid thrifty regula- 
tion? 

289* Whether, therefore, a national bank would not 
be more beneficial than even a mine of gold 1 

2 go. Whether without private banks what little bu- 
siness and industry there is would not stagnate r But 
whether it be not a mighty privilege for a private per- 
son, to be able to create a hundred pounds with a dash 
of his pen ? % 

2Q1. Whether the wise state of Venice was pot the 
first that conceived the advantage of a national bank ? 

292. Whether the great exactness and integrity 
with which this bank is managed be not the chief sup- 
port of that republic ? 

293. Whether the bank of Amsterdam was not be- 
gun about one hundred and thirty years ago, and whe- 
ther at this day its stock be pot conceived to amount to 
three thousand tons of gold, or thirty millions sterling ? 

294. Whether all payments of contracts for goods 
in gross and letters of exchange, must not be made by 
transfers in the bank-books, provided the sum exoeed 
three hundred florins ? 

295. Whether it be not owing to this bank, that 
the city of Amsterdam, without the least confusion, ha- 
zard, or trouble, maintains and every day promotes so 
general and quick a circulation of industry ? 

296. Whether it be not the greatest help and spur 
to commerce, that property can be so readily convey • 



THE QUEBIST. 179 

ed and So well secured by k compte en banc, that is, by 
only writing one man's name for another's in the bank- 
book? 

297. Whether, at the beginning of the last century, 
those who had lent money to the public during the war 
with Spain, were not satisfied by the sole expedient of 
placing their names in a compte en banc, with liberty to 
transfer their claims ? 

298. Whether the example of those easy transfers 
in the compte en banc, thus casually erected, did not 
tempt other men to become creditors to the public, in 
order to profit by the same secure and expeditious me* 
thod of keeping and transferring their wealth ? 

299. Whether this compte en banc hath not proyed 
better than a mine of gold to Amsterdam ? 

300. Whether that city may not be said to owe her 
greatness to the unpromising accident of her having 
b$en in debt more than she was able to pay? 

301. Whether it be known that any state from 
such small beginnings, in so short a time, ever grew to 
so great wealth and power as the province of Holland 
hath done ; and whether the bank of Amsterdam hath 
not been the real cause of such extraordinary growth ? 

302. Whether the success of those public banks in 
Venice, Amsterdam, and Hamburgh, would not natth- 
rally produce in other states an inclination to . the same 
methods'? 

303. Whether it be possible, for a national bank to 
subsist and maintain its credit, under a French govern- 
ment? 

304. Whether our natural appetites, as well as 
powers, are not limited to their respective ends and uses ? 
But whether artificial appetites may not be infinite ? 

305. Whether the simple getting of money, or pass- 
ing it from hand to hand without industry, be an object 
worthy of a wise government ? 

306. Whether, if money be considered as an end, 



180 THB aUEHIST. 

the appetite thereof be not infinite ? But whether the 
ends of money itself be not bounded ? 

307. Whether the total sum of all other powers, 
be it of enjoyment or action, which belong to a man, 
or to all mankind together, is not in truth a very nar- 
row and limited quantity ? But whether fancy is not 
boundless ? 

308. Whether this capricious tyrant, which usurps 
the place of reason, doth not most cruelly torment and 
delude those poor men, the usurers, stockjobbers, and 
projecters, of content to themselves from heaping up 
riches, that is, from gathering counters, from multiply- 
ing figures, from enlarging denominations, .without 
knowing what they would be at, and without having a 
proper regard for the use, or end, or nature, of thing*? 

309. Whether the ignis fatuus of fancy doth not 
kindle immoderate desires, and lead men into endless 
pursuits and wild labyrinths ? 

310. Whether counters be not referred to other 
things, which so long as they keep pace and proportion 
with the counters, it must be owned the counters are 
useful ; but whether beyond that to value or covet coun- 
ters, be not direct folly ? 

311. Whether the public aim ought not to be, that 
men's industry should supply their present wants, and 
the overplus be converted into a stock of power ? 

312. Whether the better this power is secured, and 
the more easily it is transferred, industry be not so much 
the more encouraged ? 

313. Whether money, more than is expedient for 
those purposes, be not upon the whole hurtful rather 
than beneficial to a state ? 

314. Whether the promoting of industry should not 
be always in view, as the true and sole end, the rule and 
measure, of a national bank ? And whether all deviations 
from that object should not be carefully avoided ? 

315. Whether it may not be useful, for supplying 



THE QUBBIST. 181 

manufactures and trade with stock, for regulating ex- 
change, for quickening commerce, and for putting spi- 
rit into the people ? 

3 16. Whether we are sufficiently sensible of the pe- 
culiar security there is in having a bank, that consists 
of land and paper, one of which cannot be exported, 
and the other is in no danger of being exported ? 

317. Whether it be not delightful to complain? 
And whether there be not many who had rather utter 
their complaints than redress their evils ? 

318. Whether, if the crown of the wise be their 
riches,* we are not the foolishest people in Christen- 
dom ? 

319. Whether we have not all the while great civil 
as well as natural advantages ? 

320. Whether there be any people who have mors 
leisure to cultivate the arts of peace, and study the pub- 
lic weal ? 

321. Whether other nations who enjoy any share of 
freedom, and have great objects in view, be not una- 
voidably embarrassed and distracted by factions ? But 
whether we do not divide upon trifles, and whether our 
parties are not a burlesque upon politics ? 

322. Whether it be not an advantage that we are 
not embroiled in foreign affairs, that we hold not the 
balance of Europe, that we are protected by other fleets 
and armies, that it is the true interest of a powerful 
people, from whom we are descended, to guard us on 
all sides ? 

323. Whether England doth not really love us and 
wish well to us, as bone of her bone, and flesh of her 
flesh ? And whether it be not our part, to cultivate this 
love and affection all manner of ways ? 

324. What sea-ports or foreign trade have the 
Swisses ; and yet how warm are those people, and bow 
well provided ? 

* Pro*, xnr. 24. 



182 THE QUERIST. 

325. Whether there may not be found a people who 
so contrive as to be impoverished by their trade ? And 
whether we are not that people ? 

326. Whether it would not be better for this island, 
if all our fine folk of both sexes were shipped off, to 
remain in foreign countries, rather than that they should 
spend their estates at home in foreign luxury, and spread 
the contagion thereof through their native land ? 

327* Whether our gentry understand or have a 
notion of magnificence, and whether for want thereof 
they do no affect very wretched distinctions ? 

328. Whether there be not an art or skill in go* 
verning human pride, so as to render it subservient to 
the public aim ? 

329. Whether the great and general aim of the 
public should not be to employ the people ? 

330. What right an eldest son hath to the worst 
education ? 

331. Whether men's counsels are not the result of 
their knowledge and their principles ? 

332. Whether there be not labour of the brains as 
well as of the hands, and whether the former is beneath 
a gentleman ? 

333. Whether the public be more interested, to 
protect the property acquired by mere birth, than that 
which is the immediate fruit of learning and virtue ? 

334. Whether it would not be a poor and ill-judged 
project to attempt to promote the good of the commu- 
nity, by invading the rights of one part thereof, or of 
One particular order of men ? 

335. Whether there be a more wretched, and at 
the same time a more unpitied case, than for men to 
make precedents for their own undoing ? 

336. Whether to determine about the rights and 
properties of men by other rules than the law, be not 
dangerous ? 

337. Whether those men, who mo ve the corner- 






THE QUERIST. 183 

stones of a constitution, may not pull an old bouse on 
their own heads ? 

338. Whether there be not two general methods 
whereby men become sharers in the national stock of 
wealth or power, industry and inheritance ? And whe- 
ther it would be wise in a civil society to lessen that 
share which is allotted to merit and industry ? 

339. Whether all ways of spending a fortune be of 
equal benefit to the public, and what sort of men are 
aptest to run into an improper expense ? 

~ 340. If the revenues allotted for the encourage-' 
ment of religion and learning were made hereditary in 
the hands of a dozen lay lords and as many overgrown 
commoners, whether the public would be much the 
better for it ? 

341. Whether the church's patrimony belongs to 
one tribe alone ; and whether every man's son, brother, 
or himself, may not, if he please, be qualified to share 
therein ? 

342. What is there in the clergy to create a jea- 
lousy in the public ? Or what would the public lose by 
it, if every squire in the land wore a black coat, said his 
prayers, and was obliged to reside ? 

343. Whether there be any thing perfect under the 
sun ? And, whether it be not with the world as with a 
particular state, and with a state or body politic as with 
the human body, which lives and moves under various 
indispositions, perfect health being seldom or never to 
be found ? 

344. Whether, nevertheless, men should not in all- 
things aim at perfection ? And, therefore, whether any 
wise and good man would be against applying reme- 
dies ? But whether it is not natural to wish for a bene - 
volent physician? , 

345. Whether the public happiness be not proposed 
by the legislature, and whether such happiness doth 
not contain that of the individuals ? 



184 THE QUERIST. 

346. Whether, therefore, a legislator should be con- 
tent with a vulgar share of knowledge ? Whether he 
should not be a person of reflection and thought, who 
hath made it his study to understand the true nature 
and interest of mankind, how to guide men's humours 
and passions, how to incite their active powers, how to 
make their several talents co-operate to the mutual be- 
nefit of each other, and the general good of the whole ? 

347. Whether it doth not follow, that above all 
things a gentleman's care should be to keep his own fa- 
culties sound and entire ? 

348. Whether the natural phlegm of this island 
needs any additional stupefier ? 

349. Whether all spirituous liquors are not, in truth, 
opiates ? 

350. Whether our men of business are not gene- 
rally very grave by fifty ? 

351. Whether all men have not faculties of mind 
or body, which may be employed for the public benefit i 

352. Whether the main point be not to multiply 
and employ our people ? 

353. Whether hearty food and warm clothing would 
not enable and encourage the lower sort to labour ? 

354. Whether, in such a soil as ours, if there was 
industry, there could be want ? 

355. Whether the way to make men industrious 
be not to let them taste the fruits of their industry ? 
And whether the labouring ox should be muzzled ? 

356. Whether our landlords are to be told, that in- 
dustry and numbers would raise the value of their lands, 
or that one acre about the Tholsel is worth ten thou- 
sand acres in Connaught ? 

357. Whether our old native Irish are not the most 
indolent and supine people in Christendom ? 

358. Whether they are yet civilized, and whether 
their habitations and furniture are not more sordid than 
those of the savage Americans ? 



THB aUBHIST. 186 

359. Whether it be not a sad circumstance to live 
among lazy beggars ? And whether, on the other hand, 
it would not be delightful to live in a country swarm- 
ing, like China, with busy people ? 

360. Whether we should not cast about, by all man- 
ner of means, to excite industry, and to remove what- 
ever hinders it ? And whether every one should not 
lend a helping hand ? 

361. Whether vanity itself should not be engaged 
in this good work ? And whether it is not to be wished, 
that the finding of employment for themselves apd 
others, were a fashionable distinction among the ladies ? 

362. Whether idleness be the mother or daughter 
of spleen ? 

363. Whether it may not be worth while to publish 
the conversation of Ischomachus and his wife in Xeno- 
phon, for the use of our ladies ? 

364. Whether it is true, that there have been, upon 
a time, one hundred millions of people employed in 
China, without the woollen trade or any foreign com- 
merce? 

365. Whether the natural inducements to sloth are 
not greater in the Mogul's country than in Ireland, and 
yet whether, in that suffbcating and dispiriting climate, 
the Banyans are not all, men, women, and children, con- 
stantly employed ? 

366. Whether it be not true that the Great Mo- 
gul's subjects might undersell us even in our own mar- 
kets, and clothe our people with their stuffs and calicoes, 
if they were imported duty free ? 

367. Whether there can be 9, greater reproach on 
the leading men and the patriots of a country, than that 
the people should want employment? And whether 
methods may not be found to employ even the lame 
and the blind, the dumb, the deaf, and the maimed, in 
some or other branch of our manufactures ? 

368. Whether much may not be expected from a 

TOL. III. o 



180 THE QUBftlST. 

biennial consultation of so many wise men about the 
public good? * 

369. Whether a tax upon dirt would not be dne 
way of encouraging industry ? 

376. Whether it would be a great hardship, if every 
parish were obliged to find work for their poor ? 

371. Whether children especially should not bef 
inured to labour betimes ? 

372. Whether there should not be erected, in each 
province, a hospital for orphans and foundlings, at the 
expense of old bachelors ? 

373. Whether it be true, that in the Dutch work- 
houses, things are so managed, that a child four years 
old may earn its own livelihood ? 

374. What a folly is it to build fine houses, or es- 
tablish lucrative posts and large incomes, under the no- 
tion of providing for the poor ! 

375. Whether the poor, grown up and in health, 
nted any other provision but their own industry, under 
public inspection ? 

376. Whether the poor-tax in England hath less- 
ened or increased the number of the poor ? 

377* Whether workhouses should not be made at 
the least expense* with clay floors and walls of rough 
stone, without plastering, ceiling, or glazing ? 

378. Whether it be an impossible attempt to set our 
people at work, or whether industry be a habit, which, 
like other habits, may by time and skill be introduced 
among any people ? 

379. Whether all manner of means should not be 
employed to possess the; nation in general, with an aver- 
sion and contempt for idleness and all idle folk ? 

380. Whether it would be a hardship on people 
destitute of all things, if the public furnished theto with 
necessaries which they should be obliged to earn by 
their labour ? 

38 1 . Whether other nations have hot found great 



THE UUERIST. 1ST 

benefit from the use of slaves in repairing Mjgh rabds, 
making rivers navigably draining bog*, , ejecting public 
buildings, bridges, and manufactories ? 

382. Whether temporary servitude would not be 
the best cure for idleness and beggary:? 

383. Whether the public hath not a right to. em- 
ploy those who cannot or who will, not find employ- 
ment for themselves ? 

384. Whether all sturdy beggars should not be 
seized and made slaves to the public, for a certain term 
of years? 

385. Whether he who is chained in a jail or dun- 
geon, hath not, for the time, lost his liberty ? And if 
so, whether temporary slavery be not already admitted 
among us ? 

386. Whether a *tate of servitude, wherein he should 
be well worked, fed, and clothed, would not be a prefer* 
ment to such a fellow ? 

387. Whether criminals in the freest country may 
not forfeit their liberty, and repair the damage they have 
done the public by hard labour ? 

388. What the word servant aignifies in the New 
Testament? 

38Q. Whether the view of criminals, chained in pairs 
and kept at hard labour, would not be very edifying to 
the multitude? 

390. Whether the want of such an institution be not 
plainly seen in England, where the disbelief of a future 
state hardeneth rogues against (he fear of death, and 
where, through the great growth of robbers and house- 
breakers, it becomes every day more necessary ? 

391. Whether it be not easier to prevent than to 
remedy, and whether we should not profit by the exam- 
ple of others ? 

392. Whether felons are not often spared, and there- 
fore encouraged,by the compassion of those who should 
prosecute them ? 

02 



186 THE QUKHIBT. 

893. Whether many, that would not take awpy the 
life of a thief, may not nevertheless be willing to bring 
him to a more adequate punishment ? 

894. Whether the most indolent would be fond of 
idleness, if they regarded it as the sure road to hard 
labour P 

395. Whether the industry of the lower part of 
our people doth not much depend on the expense of 
the upper ? 

396. What would be the con sequence, if our gentry 
affected to distinguish themselves by fine houses rather 
than fine clothes ? 

397. Whether any people in Europe are 00 meanly 
provided with houses and furniture, in proportion to 
their incomes, as the men of estates in Ireland ? 

398. Whether building would not peculiarly encou- 
rage all other arts in this kingdom ? 

399. Whether smiths, masons, bricklayers, plaster* 
ers, carpenters, joiners, tilers, plumbers, and glaziers, 
would not all find employment if the humour of build- 
ing prevailed ? 

400. Whether the ornaments and furniture of a 
good house do not employ a number of all sorts of 
artificers, in iron, wood, marble, brass, pewter, copper, 
wool, flax, and divers other materials ? 

401. Whether in buildings and gardens, a gfett 
number of day-labourers do not find employment ? 

402. Whether by these means much of that sus* 
tenance and wfealth of this nation which now goes to 
foreigners would not be kept at home, and nourish and 
circulate among our own people ? 

403. Whether, as industry produced good living, 
the number of hands and mouths would not be in- 
creased ; and in proportion thereunto, whether there 
would not be every day more occasion for agriculture? 
And whether this article alone would not employ a 
world of people ? 



TUB AUSBIftT. Itt 

404. Whether such management would not equally* 
provide for the magnificence of the rid), and the neees* 
sitie$ofthepoor? 

405. Whether an expense in building and improve- 
ments doth not remain at home, pass to the heir, and 
adorn the public ? And whether any of these things . 
can be said of claret ? 

406. Whether fools do not make fashions, and wise 
men follow them ? 

407. Whether, for one who hurts Ins fortune by 
improvements, twenty do not ruin themselves by foneign 
luxury ? 

408. Whether in proportion as Ireland was im- 
proved and beautified by fine seats, the number of 
absentees would not decrease ? 

409. Whether he who employs men in buildings 
and manufacture* doth not put life in die country, 
and whether the neighbourhood round him be not ob- 
served to thrive ? 

410. Whether money circulated on the landlord's 
own lands, and among his own tenants, doth not return 
into his own pocket ? 

411. Whether every squire that made his domain 
swarm with busy hands, like a bee- hive or ant-hill, 
would not serve his own interest, as well as that of his 
country? 

412. Whether 9 gentleman, who hath seen a little 
of the world and observed how men live elsewhere, can - 
contentedly sit down in a cold, damp, sordid habitation, 
in the midst of a bleak country, inhabited by thieves 
and beggars? 

413. Whether, on the other hand, a handsome seal 
sqaidst well-improved lands, fair villages, and a thriving 
neighbourhood, may not invite a man to dwell on his 
own estate, and quit the life of aft insignificant &aunterer 
about town, for Chat of a useful oountry-gendeman ? • ' 

414. Whether it would not be of use and ornament 



190 THB QUERIST. 

if the towns throughout this . kingdom were provided 
with decent churches, townhouses, workhouses, market- 
places, and paved streets, with some order taken for 
cleanliness ? 

415. Whether, if each of these towns were addicted 
to some peculiar manufacture, we should not find, that 
the employing many hands together on the same work 
was the way to perfect our workmen ? And whether 
all these things might not soon be provided by a domes- 
tic industry, if money were not wanting ? 

41 6. Whether money could ever be wanting to the 
demands of industry, if we had a national bank ? 

41/. Whether the fable of Hercules and the carter 
ever suited any nation like this nation of Ireland ? 

418. Whether it be not a new spectacle under the 
sun, to behold, in such a climate and such a soil, and 
under such a gentle government, so many roads untrod- 
den, fields untilled, houses desolate, and hands unem- 
ployed ? 

419. Whether there is any country in Christen- 
dom, either kingdom or republic, depending or inde- 
pendent, free or enslaved, which may not afford us a 
useful lesson ? 

420. Whether the frugal Swisses have any other 
commodities but their butter and cheese and a few cat- 
tle, for exportation ; whether, nevertheless, the single 
canton of Berne hath not in her public treasury two 
millions sterling ? 

42J . Whether that small town of Berne, with its 
scanty barMn territory, in a mountainous corner, with- 
out seaports, without manufactures, without mines, be 
not rich by miere dint of frugality ? 

422. Whether the Swisses in general have not sump* 
tuary laws, prohibiting the use of gold, jewels, silver, silk, 
and lace, in their apparel, and indulging the women only 
to wear silk on festivals, weddings, and public solemni- 
ties. 



THE QUERIST. 191 

423. Whether there be not two ways of growing 
rich, sparing and getting ? But whether the lazy spend- 
thrift must not be doubly poor ? 

424. Whether money circulating be not the life of 
industry ; and whether the want thereof doth not ran* ' 
der a state gouty and inactive ? 

425. But whether, if we had a national bank, and 
our present cash (small as it is) were put into the most 
convenient shape, men should hear any public complaints 
for want of money ? 

426. Whether all circulation be not alike a circula- 
tion of credit, whatsoever medium (metal or paper) is 
employed, and whether gold be any more than credit for 
so much power ? 

427 • Whether the wealth of the richest nations in 
Christendom doth not consist in paper vastly more than 
in gold and silver ? 

428. Whether Lord Clarendon doth not aver of his 
own knowledge, th^t the Prince of Orange, with the best 
credit, and the assistance of the richest men in Amster- 
dam, was above ten days endeavouring to raise 20, 000/. 
in specie, without being able to raise half the sum in all 
that time ? See Clarendon's History, b. xii. 

42Q. Supposing there had been hitherto no such 
thing as a bank, and the question were now first pro- 
posed, whether it would be safer to circulate unlimited 
bills in a private credit, or bills to a limited value on the 
public credit of the community, what would men think ? 

430. Whether the maxim, What is every body's 
business is no body's, prevails in any country under the 
sun more than in Ireland ? 

431. Whether the united stock of a nation be not 
the best security ? And whether any thing but the ruin 
of the state can produce a national bankruptcy ? 

432. Whether the total sum of the public treasure, 
power, and wisdom, all co-operating, be not most likely 
to establish a banl^ of credit, sufficient to answer the 



THE dUERIST. 

ends, relieve the wants, and satisfy the scruples* of all 
people? 

433. Whether London is not to be considered as 
the metropolis of Ireland? And whether our wealth 
(such as it is) doth not circulate through London, and 
throughout England, as freely as that of any part of 
his Majesty's dominions ? 

434. Whether therefore it be not evidently the 
interest of the people of England, to encourage rather 
than to oppose a national bank in this kingdom, as well 
as every other means for advancing our wealth, which 
shall not impair their own ? 

435. Whether it is not our interest to be ttftefiil to 
them rather than rival them ; and whether in that Case 
we may not be sure of their good offices? - 

436. Whether we can propose to thrive BO long as 
we entertain a wrongheaded distrust of England fc 

437* Whether* as a national bank would increase 
our industry and that bur wealth, England may not be a 
proportionable gainer; and whether we should not con- 
sider the gains of our mother-country as some accession 
to our own ? 

438. Whether there be any difficulty in compre- 
hending, that the whole wealth of the nation is in truth 
the stock of a national bank ? And whether any more 
than the right comprehension of this, be necessary to 
make all men easy with regard to its credit? 

439. Whether the prejudices about gold and silver 
are not stmng, but whether they are not still preju- 
dices? 

440. Whether paper doth not by its stamp and sig- 
nature acquire a load value, and become as precious and 
as scarce as gold ? And whether it be not much fitter 
to circulate large sums, and therefore preferable to 
gold? 

441. Whether it doth not much import to have a 
right conception of money ? And whether its true and 



TUB QUBRIST. 193 

just idea be not that of a ticket, entitling to power and 
fitted to record and transfer such power? 

442. Though the bank of Amsterdam doth very, 
rarely, if at all, pay out money, yet whether every man 
possessed of specie be not ready to convert it into paper, 
and act as cashier to the bank ? And whether, from the 
same motive, every monied man throughout this king- 
dom would not be cashier to our national bank ? 

443. Whether we may not obtain that as friends 
which it is in vain to hope for as rivals ? 

444. Whether in every instance by which we pre* 
judice England, we do not in a greater degree prejudice 
ourselves? 

445. .Whether in the rude original of society, the 
first step was not the exchanging of commodities ; the 
next a substituting of metals by weight as the common 
medium of circulation ; after this the making use of coin ; 
lastly, a farther refinement by the use of paper with 
proper marks and signatures ? And whether this, as it 
is the last, so it be not the greatest improvement ? 

446. Whether we are not in fact the only people 
who may be said to starve in the midst of plenty ? 

447* Whether there can be a worse sign than 
that people should quit their country for a livelihood ? 
Though men often leave their country for health, or 
pleasure, or riches, yet to leave it merely for a livelihood ; 
whether this be not exceeding bad, and sheweth some 
peculiar mismanagement? 

448. Whether, in order to redress our evils, arti- 
ficial helps are not most wanted, in a land where in- 
dustry is most against the natural grain of the people ? 

449. Whether, although the prepossessions about 
gold and silver have taken deep root, yet the example of 
our colonies in America doth not make it as plain as day* 
light, that they are not so necessary to the wealth of a 
nation, as the vulgar of ajl ranks imagine ? 

450. Whether it be not evident that we mav main • 



104 TUB QUERIST. 

tain a much greater inward and outward commerce, and 
be five times richer than we are, nay, and our bills abroad 
be of far greater credit, though we had not one ounce 
of gold or silver in the whole island ? 

45 1 . Whether wrongheaded maxims, customs, and 
fashions, are not sufficient to destroy any people which 
hath so few resources as the inhabitants of Ireland? 

452. Whether it would not be a horrible thing, to 
see our matrons make dress and play their chief concern ? 

453. Whether our ladies might not as well endow 
monasteries as wear Flanders lace ? And whether it be , 
not true that popish nuns are maintained by protestant 
contributions ? 

454. Whether England, which hath a free trade, 
whatever she remits for foreign luxury with one hand, 
doth not with the other receive much more from abroad ) 
Whether, nevertheless, this nation would not be a 
gainer, if our women would content themselves, with 
the same moderation in point of expense as the Eng- 
lish ladies ? 

455. But whether it be not a notorious truth, that 
our Irish ladies are on a foot, as to dress, with those of 
five times their fortune in England ? 

456. Whether it be not even certain, that the mar 
trons of this forlorn country send out a greater propar- . 
tion of its wealth, for fine apparel, than any other females 
on the whole surface of this terraqueous globe ? 

457- Whether the expense, great as it is, be the 
greatest evil ; but whether this folly may not produce 
many other follies, an entire derangement of domestic 
life, absurd manners, neglect of duties, bad mothers, a 
general corruption in both sexes ? 

458. Whether the first beginning of expedients do 
not always meet with prejudices ? And whether even 
the prejudices of a people ought not to be respected? 

459. Whether a national bank be not the true phi- 
losopher's stone in a state ? 



THE QUERIST. 105' 

460. Whether all regulations of coin should not be 
made with a view to encourage industry and a circulation' 
of commerce throughout the kingdom ? 

461. Whether to oil the wheels of commerce be 
not a common benefit ? And whether this be not done 
by avoiding fractions and multiplying small silver ? 

462. Whether, all things considered, a general rais- 
ing the value of gold and silver be not so far from bring- 
ing greater quantities thereof into the kingdom, that it' 
would produce a direct contrary effect, inasmuch as less, 
in that case, would sdrve, and therefore less be wanted ? 
And whether men do not import a commodity, in pro- 
portion to the demand or want of it ? 

463. Whether the lowering of our gold would not 
create a fever in the state ? And whether a fever be not 
sometimes a cure, but whether it be not the last cure a 
man would choose ? 

464. Whether raising the value of a particular spe- 
cies will not tend to multiply such species, and to lessen 
others in proportion thereunto ? And whether a much 
less quantity of cash in silver would not, in reality, en- 
rich the nation more than a much greater in gold ? 

465. Whether, deteris paribus, it be not true that 
the prices of things increase, as the quantity of money 
increaseth, and are diminished as that is diminished ? 
And whether, by the quantity of money, is not to be 
understood the amount of the denominations, all con- 
tracts being nominal for pounds, shillings, and pence, 
and not for weights of gold or silver ? 

466. Whether our exports do not consist of such 
necessaries as other countries cannot well be without ? 

467. Whether upon the circulation of a national 
bank mote land would hot be tilled, more hands em- 
ployed, and consequently more commodities exported ? 

468. Whether silver and small money be not that 
which circulates the quickest, and passeth through all 
hands, on the road, in the market, at the shop ? 



190 THB QUERIST. 

4 

469. Whether, all things considered, it would not 
be better for a kingdom that its cash consisted of half 
a million in small silver, than of five times that sum in 
gold? 

470. Whether there be not every day five hundred 
lesser payments made for one that requires gold ? 

47 1 • Whether Spain, where gold bears the highest 
value, be not the laziest, and China, where it bears the 
lowest, be not the most industrious country in the known 
world ? 

472. Whether it be not evidently the interest of 
every state, that its money should rather circulate than 
stagnate ? 

473. Whether the principal use of cash be not its 
ready passing from hand to hand, to answer common 
occasions of the common people, and whether common 
occasions of all sorts of -people are not small ones ? 

474. Whether business at fairs and markets is not 
often at a stand and often hindered, even though the 
seller hath his commodities at hand, and the purchaser 
his gold, for want of change ? 

475 • As wealth is really power, and coin a ticket 
conveying power, whether those tickets which are the 
fittest for that use ought not to be preferred ? 

476. Whether those tickets which singly transfer 
small shares of power, and, being multiplied, large shares, 
are not fitter for common use than those which singly 
transfer large shares ? . 

477. Whether the public is not more benefited by 
a shilling that circulates than a pound that lies dead ? 

478. Whether sixpence twice paid, be not as good 
as a shilling once paid ? 

479. Whether the same shilling circulating in a 
village may not supply one man with bread, another 
with stockings, a third with a knife, a fourth with paper, 
a fifth with nails, and so answer many wants which must 
otherwise have remained unsatisfied ? 



THB QUERIST. - 107 

480. Whether facilitating and quickening the circu- 
lation of power to supply wants, be not the promoting 
of wealth and industry among the lower people ? And 
whether upon this the wealth of the great doth not 
depend? 

481. Whether, without the proper means of circu- 
lation, it be not vain to hope for thriving manufactures 
and a busy people ? 

482. Whether four pounds in small cash may not 
circulate and enliven an Irish market, which many four- 
pound pieces would permit to stagnate ?* 

483. Whether a man that could move nothing less 
than a hundred-pound weight would not be much at a 
loss to supply his wants ; and whether it would not be 
better for him to be less strong and more active ? 

484. Whether the natural body can be in a state of 
health and vigour, without a due circulation of the ex- 
tremities, even in the fingers and toes ? And whether 
the political body, any more than the natural, can thrive 
without a proportionable circulation through the mi- 
nutest and most inconsiderable parts thereof? 

465. If we had a mint for coining only shillings, 
sixpences, and copper-money, whether the nation would 
not soon feel the good effects thereof? 

486. Whether the greater waste by wearing of small 
coins would not .be abundantly overbalanced by their 
usefulness ? 

487* Whether it be not the industry of common 
people that feeds the state, and whether it be possible 
to keep this industry alive without small money ? 

488. Whether the want of this be not a great bar 
to our employing the people in these manufactures 
which are open to us, and do not interfere with Great 
Britain? 

* In the year 1735, this country abounded with the large gold 
coins of Portugal, which, being orerrated, flowed in from all parts. 
But that evil is since remedied. 



198 THE QUERIST. 

489- Whether therefore such want doth not drive 
men into the lazy way of employing land under sheep- 
walk? 

490. Whether the running of wool from Ireland 
can so effectually be prevented, as by encouraging other 
business and manufactures among our people ? 

49K Whatever commodities Great Britain imports 
eth which we might supply, whether it be not her real 
interest to import them from us rather than from any 
other people ? 

492. Whether the apprehension of many among us 
(who for that very reason stick to their wool), that Eng- 
land may hereafter prohibit, limit, or discourage, our 
linen trade, when it hath been once, with m great pains 
and expense, thoroughly introduced and settled in tins 
land, be not altogether groundless and unjust ? 

493. Whether it is possible for this country, which 
hath neither mines of gold nor a free trade, . to support 
for any time the sending out of specie ? 

494. Whether in fact our payments are not made 
by bills ? And whether our foreign credit doth not 
depend on our domestic industry, and our bills on that 
credit ? 

495. Whether, in order to mend it, we ought not 
first to know the peculiar wretchedness of our state ? 
And whether there be any knowing of this but by com- 
parison ? 

496. Whether there are not single market- towns in 
England, that turn more money in buying and selling, 
than whole countries (perhaps provinces) with us ? 

497. Whether the small town of Birmingham alone 
doth not, upon an average, circulate every week, one 
way or other, to the value of fifty thousand pounds ? 
But whether the same crown may not be often paid ? 

496. Whether any kingdom in Europe be so good 
a customer at Bourdeaux as Ireland ? 

499. Whether the police and economy of France 



THE QUEEI8T. 199 



be not governed by wise councils ? And whether any 
one from this country, who sees their towns, and manu* 
factures, and commerce, will not wonder what our sena- 
tors have been doing ? 

500. What variety and number of excellent manu- 
factures are to be met with throughout the whole king- 
dom of France ! 

501. Whether there are not every where some or 
other mills for many uses, forges and furnaces for iron- 
work, looms for tapestry, glasshouses, and so forth ! 

502. What quantities of paper, stockings, hats ; what 
manufactures of wool, silk, linen, hemp, leather, wax, 
earthenware, brass, lead, tin, &a ! 

503. Whether the manufactures and commerce of 
the single town of Lyons do not amount to a greater 
value, than all the manufactures and all the trade of this 
kingdom taken together ? 

504. Whether, in the anniversary fair at the small 
town of Beaucair upon the Rhone, there be not as 
much money laid out as the current cash of this king- 
dom amounts to ! 

505. Whether the very shreds shorn from woollen 
cloth, which are thrown away in Ireland, do not make a 
beautiful tapestry in France ? 

506. Whether there be not Fitench towns subsisted 
merely by making pins ? 

507. Whether the coarse fingers of those very 
women, those same peasants, who one part of the year 
till the ground and dress the vineyards, are not another 
employed in making the finest French point ? 

508. Whether there is not a great number of idle 
fingers among the wives and daughters of our peasants ? 

509* Whether the French do not raise a trade from 
saffron, dying drugs, and the like products, which may 
do with us as well as with them ? 

510. Whether we may not have materials of our 
own growth to supply all manufactures, as well as 



200 THK QUBBIST. 

France, except silk, and whether the bulk of what silk, 
even France manufactures, be not imported ? 

511. Whether it be possible for this country to grow 
rich, so long as what is made by domestic industry, is 
spent in foreign luxury ? 

- 5 12. Whether our natural Irish are not partly Span- 
iards and partly Tartars ; and whether they do not bear 
signatures of their descent from both these nations, 
which is also confirmed by all their histories ? 

513. Whether the Tartar progeny is not numer- 
ous in this land ? And whether there is an idler occu- 
pation under the sun than to attend flocks and herds of 
cattle ? 

514. Whether the wisdom of the state should not 
wrestle with this hereditary disposition of our Tartars, 
and with a high hand introduce agriculture ? 

515. Whether once upon a time France did not, 
by her linen alone, draw yearly from Spain about eight 
millions of livres? 

5 1 6. Whether the French have not suffered in their 
linen trade with Spain, by not making their cloth of doe 
breadth : and whether any other people have suffered, 
and are still likely to suffer, through. the same prevarica- 
tion?* 

517* Whether the Spaniards are not rich and lazy, 
and whether they have not a particular inclination and 
favour for the inhabitants of this island ? But whether 
a punctual people do not love punctual dealers? 

518. Whether about fourteen years ago we had not 
come into a considerable share of the linen trade with 
Spain, and what put a stop to this ? 

519. Whether if the linen-manufacture were car- 
ried on in the other provinces, as well as in the north, 
the merchants of Cork, Limerick, and Galway, would 
not soon find the way to Spain ? 

• Things, we hear, are in a way of being mended with us in this 
nipsct 



THK QUERIST. SOt 

526. ' Whether the wooltei-mariufacture of England 
is not divided into several parte or branches, appropri-» 
Ated to particular places, where they are only or prin- 
cipally manufactured ; fine clothfcs ih Somersetshire; 
coarse in Yorkshire, long ells at Exeter, saies at Sud«* 
bury, crapes at Norwich, linseys at Kendal, blankets at 
Whitney, and so forth ? 

521. Whether the united skill, industry, and emu- 
lation, of many together on the same work, be not the 
Way to advance it ? And whether it had been otherwise 
possible for England, to have carried on her woollen* 
manufacture to so great perfection ? 

522. Whether it would not on many accounts be 
right, if we observed the same course with respect to 
our linen-manufacture; and that diapers were made in 
one town or district, damasks in another, sheeting in £ 
third, fine wearing linen in a fourth, coarse in a fifth 4 
in another cambrics, in another thread and stockings, 
in others stamped linen, or striped linen, or tickings, or 
dyed linen, of which last kinds there is so great a con* 
Sumption atoong the seafaring men of all nations ? 

523. Whether it may not be worth while, to inform, 
ourselves of the different sorts of linen which are in 
request among different people ? 

524. Whether we do not yearly consume of French 
wines about a thousand tun more than either Sweden or 
Denmark, and yet, whether those nations pay ready 
money as we do ? 

525. Whether it be not a custom for some thou- 
sands of Frenchmen to go about the beginning of March 
into Spain, and having tilled the lands and gathered the 
harvest of Spain, to return home with money -in their 
pockets, about the end of November ? 

526. Whether of late years our Irish labourers do 
not carry on the same business in England, to the great 
discontent of many there ? But whether we have n?t 

VOL. III. p 



i 



203 THE QUERIST. 

much more reason than the people of England to be 
displeased at this commerce ? 

527. Whether, notwithstanding the. cash supposed 
to be brought into it, any nation is, in truth, a gainer 
by such traffic ? 

528. Whether the industry of our people employed 
in foreign land, while our own are left uncultivated, be 
not a great loss to the country ? 

529. Whether it would not be much better for us, 
if, instead of sending our men abroad, we could draw 
men from the neighbouring countries to cultivate our 
own ? 

530. Whether, nevertheless, we are not apt to .think 
the money, imported by our labourers to be so .much 
clear gains to this country ; but whether a little reflec- 
tion and a little political arithmetic, may not shew us 
our mistake ? 

531. Whether our prejudices about gold and silver 
are not very apt to infect or misguide our judgments 
and reasonings about the public weal ? 

532. Whether it be not a good rule whereby to 
judge of the trade of any city, and its usefulness, to. ob- 
serve whether there is a circulation through the extre- 
mities, and whether the people round about are busy 
and warm ? 

533. Whether we had not, some years since, a ma- 
nufacture of hats at Athlone, and of earthenware at 
Arklow, and what became of those manufactures ? 

534. Why we do not .make tiles of our own, for 
flooring and roofing, rather than bring them from Hoi- 
land? 

535. What manufactures are . there in France and 
Venice of gilt-leather, how cheap and how splendid a 
furniture ? 

536. Whether we may not, for the same use, manu- 
facture divers things at home, of more beauty and variety 



THB QUERIST- 203 

than wainscot, which is imported at such expense from 
Norway? 

537 . .Whether the use and the fashion will not soon 
make a manufacture? 

538. Whether, if our gentry used to drink mead 
and cider, we should not soon have those liquors in the 
utmost perfection and plenty ? 

539. Whether it be nqt wonderful, that with, such 
pastures, and so many black cattle, we do not find our- 
selves in cheese ? 

540. Whether great profits may not be made by 
fisheries ; but whether those of our Irish, who live by 
that business, do not contrive to be drunk and unem- 
ployed one half of the year ? 

541 ..Whether it be not folly to think, an inward 
commerce cannot enrich a state, because it doth not in- 
crease its quantity of gold and silver ? And whether it 
is possible a country should not thrive, while wants are 
supplied, and business goes on ? 

542. Whether plenty of all the necessaries and com- 
forts of life be not real wealth ? 

543. Whether Lyons, by the advantage of her mid- 
land situation and the rivers Rhone and Soane, be not 
a great magazine or mart for inward commerce ? And 
whether she doth not maintain a constant tfade with 
most parts of France ; with Provence for oils and dried 
fruits, for wines and cloth with Languedoc, for stuffs 
with Champaign, for linen with Picardy, Normandy, and 
Bretagne, for cora with Burgundy ? 

544. Whether she doth not receive and utter all 
those commodities, and raise a profit from the distribu- 
tion thereof, as well as of her own manufactures, 
throughout the kingdom of France ? 

545. Whether the charge, of making good roads and 
navigable rivers across the country, would not be really 
repaid by an inward commerce ? 

P2 



201 THE CLUERIST* 

546. Whether, ' a9 our trade and manufactures in- 
creased, magazines should not be established In proper 
places, fitted by their situation, near great roads and 
navigable rivers, lakes, or canals, for the ready recep- 
tion and distribution of all sorts of commodities, 
from and to the several parts of the kingdom \ add 
whether the town of Athlone, for instance, may not . 
be fitly situated for such a magazine, or centre of dow- 
niest* commerce ? 

547. Whether an inward trade would not cause in- 
dustry to flourish, and multiply the circulation of our 
coin, and whether this may not do as well as multiplying 
the coin itself? . 

548. Whether the benefits of a domestic commerce 
are sufficiently understood and attended to; and whether 
the cause thereof be not the prejudiced and narrow way 
of thinking about gold and silver ? 

549. Whether there be any other more easy and 
unenvied method of increasing the wealth of a people? 

550. Whether we of this island are not from our 
peculiar circumstances determined to this very com- 
merce above any other, from the number of necessaries 
and good things that we possess within ourselves, from 
the extent and variety of our soil* from the navigable 
rivers and good roads which we have or may have, at a 
less expense than any people in Europe, from our great 
plenty of materials for manufactures, and particularly 
from the restraints we lie under with regard to our 
foreign trade ? 

551. Whether annual inventories should not be 
published of the fairs throughout the kingdom, in order 
to judge of the growth of its commerce ? 

552. Whether there be not every year more cash 
circulated at the card- tables of Dublin, than at all the 
fairs of Ireland ? • 

553. Whether the wealth of a country will not 



THE QUERIST. 2Q5 

bear proportion to the dull and industry of its inha- 
bitants? , 

554. Whether foreign imports that tend to pro* 
mote industry should not be encouraged, and such 
as have a tendency to promote luxury should not be 
discouraged ? 

555* Whether the annual balance of ,trade between 
Italy and Lyons be not about four millions in fayour of 
the former, and yet, whether Lyons be not a gainer by 
this trade ? 

556. Whether the general rule, of determining the 
profit of a commerce by its balance, doth not, like other 
general rules, admit of exceptions ? 

557* Whether it would not be a monstrous folly to 
import nothing but gold and silver, supposing we might 
do it, from every foreign part to which we trade ? And 
yet, whether some men may not think this foolish, cir- 
cumstance a very happy one ? 

558. But whether we do not all see the ridicule of 
the Mogul's subjects, who take from us nothing but our 
Silver, add bury it under ground, in order to make sure 
thereof against the resurrection ? 

559. Whether he most not be a wrongheaded pa- 
triot or politician, whose ultimate view was drawing 
money into a country, and keeping it there ? 

560. Whether it be not evident, that not gold but 
industry causeth a country to flourish ? 

• 56l. Whether it would not be a silly project in any 
nation, to hope to grow rich by prohibiting the export- 
ation of gold and silver ? 

562. Whether there can be a greater mistake in 
politics, than to measure the wealth of the nation by its 
gold and silver ? 

563. Whether gold and silver be not a drug, where 
they do not promote industry ? Whether they be not 
even the bane and undoing of an idle people ? 



206 THE QUERIST. 

564. Whether gold will not cause either industry or 
vice to flourish? And whether a country, where if 
flowed in without labour, must not be wretched and 
dissolute like an island inhabited by Buccaneers ? ' 

565. Whether arts and virtue are not likely to 
thrive, where money is made a means to industry ? But 
whether money without this would be a blessing to any 
people ? 

566. Whether keeping cash at home, or sending it 
abroad, just as it most serves to promote industry, be 
not the real interest of every nation ? 

567. Whether commodities of all kinds do not na- 
turally flow where there is the greatest demand ? Whe- 
ther the greatest demand for a thing be not where it is 
of most use ? Whether money, like other things, hath 
not its proper use ? Whether this use be not to circu- 
late ? Whether therefore there must not of course be 
money where there is a circulation of industry ? 

568. Whether it is not a great point to know what 
we would be at ? And whether whole states, as well as 
private persons, do not often fluctuate for want of this 
knowledge ? 

56q. Whether gold may not be compared to Seja- 
nus's horse, if we consider its passage through the 
world, and the fate of those nations which have been 
successively possessed thereof? 

570. Whether means are not so far useful as they an- 
swer the end ? And whether, in different circumstances, 
the same ends are not obtained by different means ? 

571* If we are a poor nation, abounding with very 
poor people, will it not follow, that a far greater propor- 
tion of our stock should be in the smallest and lowest 
species, than would suit with England ? 

572. Whether, therefore, it would not be highly 
expedient, if our money were coined of peculiar values, 
best suited to the circumstances and uses of our own 



THS QUERIST. tOT 

country; and -whether any other people "could take 
umbrage at our consulting our own convenience, 
in .an affair -entirely domestic, 'and that lies within 
ourselves ? " ■■ » 

573. Whether every man doth not know, and hath 
not long known, that the want of a mint causeth many 
other wants in this kingdom ? 

574. What harm did England sustain about three 
centuries ago, when silver was coined in this king- 
dom? 

575. What harm was it to Spain that her pro- 
vinces of Naples and Sicily had all along mints, of 
their own ? 

576. Whether it may not be presumed, that our 
not having a privilege, which every other kingdom in 
the world enjoys, be not owing to our own want of di-: 
ligence and unanimity in soliciting for it ? 

577. Whether it be not the interest of England, 
that we should cultivate a domestic commerce among 
ourselves ? And whether it could give them any possible 1 
jealousy, if our small sum of cash was contrived to go a 
little farther, if there was a little more life in our 
markets, a little more buying and selling in our shops, 
a little better provision for the backs and bellies of so 
many forlorn wretches throughout the towns and villages 
of this island ? 

578. Whether Great Britain ought not to promote 
the prosperity of her colonies, by all methods consistent 
with her own? And whether the colonies themselves 
ought to wish or aim at it by others ? 

579. Whether the remotest parts from the metropo- 
lis, and the lowest of the people, are not to be regarded as: 
the extremities and capillaries of the political body ? 

580. Whether, although the capillary vessels ; afe : 
small, yet obstructions in them do not produce great* 
chronical diseases ? 



SOS TH* CTOBBIST. 

581. Whether faculties are not enlarged and int. 
proved by exercise? 

682. Whether the sum of the faculties put into act, 
or, in other words, the united action of a whole people, 
doth not constitute the momentum of a state? 

583. Whether such momentum be not the real stock 
or wealth of a state ; and whether its credit he not pro- 
portional thereunto ? 

584. Whether in every wise state the faculties of die 
mind are not most considered ? 

585. Whether the momentum of a state doth not im- 
ply the whole exertion of its faculties, intellectual and 
corporeal ; and whether the latter without the former 
oould act in concert ? 

586. Whether the divided force of men, acting 
singly, would not be a rope of sand 1 

587 . Whether the particular motions of the mem- 
bers of a state, in opposite directions, will not destroy 
each other, and lessen the momentum 6f the whole; 
but whether they must not conspire to produce a great' 
effect! 

588. Whether the ready means to put spirit into 
this state, to fortify and increase its momentum* would 
not be a national bank, and plenty of small cash ? 

5S(). Whether that which employs and exerts the 
force, of a community, deserves not to be well consider- 
ed and well understood ? 

5QO. Whether the immediate mover, the blood and 
spirits, be not money, paper, or metal ; and whether the 
soul or will of the community, which is the prime 
mover that governs and directs the whole, be not the le- 
gislature ? 

591. Supposing the inhabitants of a country quite 
sunk in sloth, or even fast asleep, whether upon the 
gradual awakening and exertion, first of the sensitive 
and locomotive faculties, next of reason and reflection, 



THE QUERIST. 209 

then of justice and piety, the momentum of such coun- 
try or state would not, in proportion thereunto, be- 
come still more and more considerable ? 

592. Whether that which in the growth is last at- 
tained, and is the finishing perfection of a people, be 
not the first thing lost in their declension ? 

593. Whether force be not of copsequence as it is 
exerted ; and whether great force without great wisdom 
may not be a nuisance ? 

594. Whether the force of a child applied with art, 
may not produce greater effects than that of a giant ? 
And whether a small stock in the hands of a wise state, 
may not go farther, and produce more considerable 
effects, than immense sums in the hands of a foolish 
one? 

595. Whose fault is it if poor Ireland still continues 
poor? 



PRO POSAL 



worn TBB 



BETTER SUPPLYING OF CHURCHES 



IN OUR 



FOREIGN PLANTATIONS; 



and rom 



CONVERTING THE SAVAGE AMERICANS TO CHRISTIANITY, 

BY A COLLEGE TO BE ERECTED IN THE SUMMER ISLANDS, 
OTHERWISE CALLED THE ISLES OF BERMUDA. 



• . • ...... 



PROPOSAL, &c. 



Although there are several excellent persons of th6 
church of England, whose good intentions and endea- 
vours have not been wanting to propagate the gospel 
in foreign parts, who have even combined into socie- 
ties for that very purpose, and given great encourage- 
ment, not only for English missionaries in the West 
Indies, but also for the reformed of other nations, led 
by their example to propagate Christianity in the east j 
it is nevertheless acknowledged, that there is at this day 
but little sense of religion, and a most notorious corrup- 
tion of manners, in the English colonies settled on the 
continent of America, and the Islands. It is also ac- 
knowledged, that the gospel hath hitherto made but a 
very inconsiderable progress among the neighbouring 
Americans, who still continue in much the same igno-> 
ranee and barbarism in which we found them above a 
hundred years ago. 

I shall therefore venture to submit my thoughts 
upon a point, that I have long considered, to better 
judgments, in hopes that any expedient will be favoura- 
bly hearkened to, which is proposed for the remedy of 
these evils. Now, in order to effect this, it should seem 
the natural proper method, to provide, in the first place; 
a constant supply of worthy clergymen for the English 
churches in those parts ; and, in the second place, a 
like constant supply of zealous missionaries, well fitted 
for propagating Chrisnknity among the savages. 

For though the surest means to reform the morals 



214 A PROPOSAL, &C. 

and soften the behaviour of men, be, to preach to them 
the pure uncorrupt doctrine of the gospel, yet it cannot 
be denied, that the success of preaching dependeth in 
good measure on the character and skill of the preacher : 
forasmuch as mankind are more apt to copy characters 
than to practise precepts, and forasmuch as argument, to 
attain its full strength, doth not less require the life of 
zeal than the weight of reason ; and the same doctrine, 
which maketh great impression when delivered with de- 
cency and address, loseth very much of its force by pass- 
ing through awkward or unskilful hands. 

Now the clergy sent over to America have proved, 
too many of them, very meanly qualified both in learn- 
ing and morals for the discharge of their office. And 
indeed little can be expected from the example or in- 
struction of those, who quit their native country on no 
other motive, than that they are not able to procure 8 
livelihood in it, which is known to be often the case. 

To this may be imputed the small care that hath been 
taken to convert the negroes of our plantations, who, to 
the infamy of England and scandal of the world, con- 
tinue heathen under Christian masters, and in Christian 
countries. Which would never be, if our planters were 
rightly instructed and made sensible, that they disap- 
pointed their own baptism by denying it to those who 
belong to them : that it would be of advantage to their 
affairs, to have slaves who should " obey in all things 
their masters according to the flesh, not with eye-service 
as men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart, as fearing 
God :" that gospel liberty consists with temporal servi- 
tude ; and that their slaves would only become better 
slaves by being Christian. 

And though it be allowed that some of the clergy in 
our colonies have approved themselves men "of merit, it 
will at the same time be allowed, that the most zealous 
and able missionary from England must find himself but 
ill qualified for converting the American heathen, if we 



A PROPOSAL, &C. 215 

the difference of language, their wild way of 
living, and, above all, the great jealousy and prejudice 
which savage nations have towards foreigners, or inno- 
vations introduced by them. 

These considerations make it evident, that a college 
or seminary in those parts is very much wanted ; and 
therefore the providing such a seminary, is earnestly 
proposed and recommended to all those, who have it in 
their power, to contribute to so good a work. - By this, 
two ends would be obtained. 

First, the youth of our English plantations might be 
themselves fitted for the ministry; and men of merit 
would be then glad to fill the churches of their native 
country, which are now a drain for the very dregs and 
refuse of ours. 

At present, there are, I am told, many churches va- 
cant in our plantations, and many very ill supplied ; nor 
can all the vigilance and wisdom of that great prelate, 
whose peculiar care it. is, prevent this, so long as the 
aforesaid churches are supplied from England. 

And supplied they must be, with such as can be pick- 
ed up in England or Ireland, until a nursery of learning 
for the education of the natives is founded. This indeed 
might provide a constant succession of learned and ex- 
emplary pastors ; and what effect this must be supposed 
to have on their flocks, I need not say. 

Secondly, the children of savage Americans, brought 
up in such a seminary, and well instructed in religion 
and learning, might make the ablest and properest mis* 
sionaries for spreading the gospel among their country- 
men ; who would be less apt to suspect and readier to 
embrace a doctrine recommended by neighbours or re- 
lations, men of their own blood and language, than if it 
were proposed by foreigners, who would not improbably 
be thought to have designs on the liberty or .property of 
their converts. 

The young Americans necessary for this purpose, 



216 A PBOPOSAL, fcc. 

may, in the beginning, he procured, ether by peaceable 
methods from those savage nations, which border on 
our colonies, and are in friendship with lis, or by taking 
captive the children of our enemies. 

It is proposed to admit into the aforesaid college 
only such savages as are under ten years of age be- 
fore evil habits have taken a deep root ; and yet not 
so early as to prevent retaining their mother-tongue, 
which should be preserved by intercourse among them- 
selves. 

It is farther proposed, to ground these young Ame- 
ricans thoroughly in religion and morality, and to give 
them a good tincture of other learning; particularly of 
eloquence,, history, and practical mathematics; to 
which it may not be improper to add tome skill in 
physic. 

If there were, a yearly supply of ten or a dozen *uch 
missionaries sent abroad into their respective countries, 
after they had received the degree of master of arts in 
the aforesaid college, and holy orders in England {tiH 
such time as episcopacy be established in those parts), it 
is hardly to be doubted but, in a little time, the world 
would see good and great effects thereof. 

For, to any considering man, the employing Ame- 
rican missionaries for the conversion of America, will, 
of all others, appear the most likely method to succeed ; 
especially if care be taken, that, during the whole course 
of their education, an eye should be had to their mission ; 
that they should be taught betimes to consider them- 
selves as trained up in that sole view, without any other 
prospect of provision or employment ; that a 2eal for 
religion and love of their country, should be early and 
constantly instilled into their minds, by repeated lec- 
tures and admonitions ; that they should not only be in- 
cited by the common topics of religion and nature, but 
farther animated and inflamed by the great examples 1*1 . 
past ages, of public spirit and virtue, to rescue their coun- 



A ' PBOFQ3AL, &C. 217 

trymen from their savage manners* to a life of civility 
and religion. 

If his Majesty would graciously please to grant a 
charter for a college to be erected in a proper place for 
these uses, it is to he hoped a fund may be soon raised, 
by the contribution of well-disposed persons, sufficient 
for building and endowing the same. For as the neces- 
sary expense would be small, so there are men of reli- 
gion and humanity in England, who would be pleased 
to see any design set forward for the glory of God and 
the good of mankind. 

A small expense would suffice to subsist and educate 
the American missionaries in a plain simple manner, 
such as might make it easy for them to return to the 
coarse and poor methods of life in use among their 
countrymen ; and nothing can contribute more to less- 
en this expense, that a judicious choice of the situation 
where the seminary is to stand. 

Many things ought to be considered in the choice 
of a situation. It should be in a good air ; in a place 
where provisions are cheap and plenty ; where an inter- 
course might easily be kept up .with all parts of America 
and the islands ; in a place of security, not exposed to 
the insults of pirates, savages, or other enemies ; where 
there is no great trade; which might tempt the readers 
or fellows of the college to become merchants, to the 
neglect of their proper business ; where there are nei- 
ther riches nor luxury to divert or lessen their applica- 
tion, or to make them uneasy and dissatisfied with a 
homely frugal subsistence ; lastly, where the inhabitants, 
if such a place may be found, are noted for innocence 
and simplicity of manners. I need not say of how great 
importance this point would be towards forming the 
morals of young students, and what mighty influence it 
must have on the mission. 

It is evident the college long since projected in Bar- 
badoes would be defective in many of these particulars ; 
vol. in. a 



21ft A PROPOSAL, &C. 

for thou gh it may have its use amongthe inhabitants, 
yet a place of so high trade, so much wealth and luxury, 
and such dissolute morals (not to mention the great 
price and scarcity of provisions) must, at first sight, sefem 
a very improper situation for a general seminary intend- 
ed for the forming missionaries, and educating youth 
in religion and sobriety of manners. The same objec- 
tions lie against the neighbouring islands. 

And if we consider thd accounts given of their ava- 
rice and licentiousness, their coldness in the practice of 
religion, and their aversion from propagating it (which 
appears in the withholding their slaves from baptism), it 
is to be feared, that the inhabitants in the populous parts 
of our plantations on the continent are not much fitter, 
than those in the islands abovementioned, to influence 
or assist such a design. And as to the more remote 
and less-frequented parts, the difficulty of being sup- 
plied with necessaries, the danger of being exposed to the 
inroads of savages, and, above all, the want of intercourse 
with other places, render them improper situations for a 
seminary of religion and learning. 

It will not be amiss to insert here an observation I 
remember to have seen in an abstract of the proceedings, 
&c. annexed to the Dean of Canterbury's Sermon be- 
fore the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in 
Foreign Parts ; that the savage Indians, who live on the 
continent, will not suffer their children to learn English 
or Dutch, lest they should be debauched by c on v ers in g 
Math their European neighbours ; which is a melancholy 
but strong confirmation of the truth of what hath been 
now advanced. 

A general intercourse and correspondence with all 
the English colonies, both on the islands and the con- 
tinent, and with other parts of America, which liath 
been before laid down, as a necessary circumstance, the 
reason whereof is very evident. But this circumstance is 
hardly to be found. For on the continent, where there 



are neither inns, nor carriages, nor .bridges over the 
riven, them it np travelling by land between distant 
places. And the English settlements are reputed to 
extend along the sea-coast for the space of fifteen hun- 
dred miles. It is therefore plain, there can be no conve- 
nient communication between them otherwise than by 
sea ; no advantage therefore, in this point, can be gained 
by settling on the continent. 

There is another consideration which equally re* 
gards the continent and islands, that the general course 
of trade and correspondence lies from all tho$e colonies 
to Great Britain alone : whereas, for our present pur-* 
pose, it would be necessary to pitch upon % place, if such 
could be found, which maintains a constant intercourse 
with all the other colonies, and whose commerce ljep 
chiefly or altogether (not in Europe, but) in America. 

There is but one spot that J can find, to which thif 
circumstance agrees ; and that is, the isles of Bermuda, 
otherwise called the Summer Islands. These having 
no rich commodity or manufacture, such as sugar, to- 
bacco, or the like, wherewithal to trade to England, are 
.obliged to become carriers for America, as the Dutch 
are for Europe. The Bermudas are excellent ship- 
wrights and sailors, and .have a great nqmber of very 
good sloops, which are always passing and repassing 
from all parts of America. They drive a constant trade 
to the islands of Jamaica, Barbadoes, Antigjty, &c. with 
butter, onions, cabbages, and other roots and vegetables, 
•which they have in great plenty . and perfection. They 
have also some small manufactures of joiner's wort aqd 
matting, which they export to the plantations on the 
continent. Hence Bermudan 6loops are oftener s$en 
in the ports of America thap any other. And indeef), 
by the best information I cpuld get, it appears they #je 
the only people of all the British plantations whp fcpjd 
a. general correspondence with the rest* 

a 2 



240 A PROPOSAL, &C. 

And as the commerce of Bermuda renders it a very. 
fit place wherein to erect a seminary, so likewise doth 
its situation, it being placed between our plantations oh 
the continent, and those in the isles, so as equally to re- 
spect both. To which may be added, that it lies in the 
way of vessels passing from America to Great Britain ; 
all which makes it plain, that the youth, to be educated 
in a seminary placed in the Summer Islands, would have 
frequent opportunities of going thither and correspond- 
ing with their friends. It must indeed be owned, that 
some will be obliged to go a long way to any one {dace, 
which we suppose resorted to, from all parts of our 
plantations ; but if we were to look out a spot the near- 
est approaching to an equal distance from all the rest, 
I believe it would be found to be Bermuda. It remains, 
that we see whether it enjoys the other qualities or con* 
ditions laid down as well as this. 

The Summer Islands are situated near the latitude 
of thirty-three degrees ; no part of the world enjoys a 
purer air, or a more temperate climate, the great ocean 
which environs them at once moderating the heat of the 
south winds, and the severity of the north-west. Such 
a latitude on the continent might be thought too hot ; 
but the air in Bermuda is perpetually fanned and kept 
cool by sea-breezes, which render the weather the most 
healthy and delightful that could be wished, being (as 
is affirmed by persons who have long lived there) of one 
equal tenor almost throughout the whole year, like the 
latter end of a fine May; insomuch that it is resorted 
to as the Montpelier of America. 

Nor are these isles (if we may believe the accounts 
given of them) less remarkable for plenty than for health; 
there being, besides beef, mutton, and fowl, great abund- 
ance of fruits, and garden-stuff of all kinds in perfec- 
tion: to this, if we add the great plenty and variety of 
fish, which is every day taken on their coasts, it would 



A PROPOSAL, &C. 241 

seem, that a seminary could no where be supplied with 
better provisions, or cheaper than here. 

About forty years ago, upon cutting down many tall 
cedars, that sheltered their orange-trees from the north- 
wind (which sometimes blows even there so as to affect 
that delicate plant), great part of their orange-plantations 
suffered ; but other cedars are since grown up, and no 
doubt a little industry would again produce as great 
plenty of oranges as ever was there heretofore. I men- 
tion this, because some have inferred from the present 
scarcity of that fruit, for which Bermuda was once so 
famous, that there hath been a change in the soil and 
climate for the worse. But; this; as hath been observed, 
proceeded from another cause, which is now in great 
measure taken away. 

Bermuda is a cluster of small islands, which lie in a 
very narrow compass, containing, in all, not quite twenty 
thousand acres. This group of isles is (to use Mr. 
Waller's expression) walled round with rocks, which 
render them inaccessible to pirates or enemies ; there 
being but two narrow entrances, both well guarded by 
forts. It would therefore be impossible to find any 
where a more secure retreat for students. 

The trade of Bermuda consists only in garden-stuff, 
and some poor manufactures, principally of cedar and 
the palmetto-leaf. Bermuda hats are worn by our la- 
dies : they are made of a sort of mat, or (as they call it) 
platting made of the palmetto-leaf, which is the only 
commodity that I can find exported from Bermuda, to 
Great Britain ; and as there is no prospect of making a 
fortune by this small trade, so it cannot be supposed to 
tempt the fellows of the college to engage in it, to the 
neglect of their peculiar business, which might possibly 
be the case elsewhere. 

Such as their trade is, such is their wealth ; the in- 
habitants being much poorer than the other colonies, 
who do not fail to despise them upon that account. 



222 A PROPOSAL, &c. 

But if they have less wealth, they have withal fesfe vk* 
and expensive folly than their neighbours. They are re- 
presented as a contented, plain, innocent sort of people, 
free from avarice and luxury, as well as the other corrup- 
tions that attend those vices. 

I am also informed, that they are more constttit 
attendants on Divine service, more kind and respectful 
to their pastor (when they have one), and shew much 
more humanity to their slaves, and charity to one an- 
other, than is observed among the English in the 
other plantations : one reason of this may be, that con- 
demned criminals, being employed in the manufactures 
of sugar and tobacco, were never transported thither. 
But whatever be the cause, the facts are attested by a 
clergyman of good credit, who lived long among them. 

Among a people of this character, and in a situation 
thus circumstantiated, it would seem that a seminary of 
religion and learning might very fitly be placed. The 
correspondence with other parts of America, the good- 
ness of the air, the plenty and security of the place, the 
frugality and innocence of the inhabitants, all conspiring 
to favour such a design. Thus much at least is evident, 
that young students would be there less liable to be cor- 
rupted in their morals ; and the governing part would 
be easier, and better contented with a small stipend, 
and a retired academical life, in a corner from whence 
avariee and luxury are excluded, than they can be sup- 
posed to be in the midst of a full trade and great riches, 
attended with all that high living and parade which our 
planters affect, and which, as well as all fashiona- 
ble vices, should be far removed from the eyes of the 
young American missionaries, who are to lead a life of 
poverty and self-denial among their countrymen. 

After all, it must be acknowledged, that though 
every thing else should concur with our wishes, yet if 
a set of good governors and teachers be wanting, who 
are acquainted with the methods of education, and have 



A PROPOSAL, &C. 8S8 

the 4epl and ability requisite for carrying on a design of 
thip qafrire, it would certainly come to nothing. 

Aq institution of thit kind should be set on foot by 
flaen of prudence, spirit, and zeal, as well as competent 
leamiqg, who should be led to it by other motives than 
the necessity of picking up a maintenance. For upon 
this view, what man of merit can be supposed to quit his 
native country, and take up with a poor college-subsist* 
ence in another part of the world, where there are so 
many considerable parishes actually void, and so many 
pthers ill supplied for want of fitting incumbents ? Is it 
likely, that fellowships of fifty or sixty pounds a year 
-should tempt abler or worthier men, than benefices of 
many times their value ? 

And except able and worthy men do first engage in 
this affair, with a resolution to exert themselves in form- 
ing the manners of the youth, and giving them a proper 
(education, it is evident the mission and the college will 
be but in a very bad way. This inconvenience seems 
the most difficult to provide against, and, if not pro- 
vided against, it will be the most likely to obstruct any 
design of this nature. So true it is, that where igno- 
rance or ill manners once take place in a seminary, they 
are sure to be handed down in a succession of illiterate 
pr worthless men. 

But this apprehension, which seems so well ground- 
ed, that a college in any part of America would either 
lie unprovided, or be worse provided than their churches 
are, hath no place in Bermuda ; there being at this time 
several gentlemen, in all respects very well qualified, 
and in possession of good preferments, and fair pros- 
pects at home, who, having seriously considered the great 
benefits that may arise to the church and to mankind 
frpm such an undertaking, are ready to engage in it, 
and to dedicate the remainder of their lives to the in- 
structing the youth of America, and prosecuting their 
owa studies uj>on a very moderate subsistence in a re- 



234 A PROPOSAL, &G. 

tirement, so sweet and so secure, and every way so well 
fitted for a place of education and study, as Bermuda. 

Thus much the writer hereof thought himself 
obliged to say of his associates : for himself, he can 
only say, that as he values no preferment upon earth 
so much as that of being employed in the execution of 
his design ; so he hopes to make up for other defects, 
dj the sincerity of his endeavours. 

In Europe, the protestant religion hath of late years 
considerably lost ground, and America seems the likeliest 
place wherein to make up for what hath been lost in 
Europe, provided the proper methods are taken ; other- 
wise the Spanish missionaries in the south, and the 
French in the north, are making such a progress, as 
may one day spread the religion of Rome, and with 
it the usual hatred to protestants, throughout all the 
savage nations of America ; which would probably end 
in the utter extirpation of our colonies, on the safety 
whereof depends so much of the nation's wealth, and so 
considerable a branch of his Majesty's revenue. 

But if this scheme were pursued, it would in all pro- 
bability have much greater influence on the Americans, 
than the utmost endeavours of popish emissaries can 
possibly have; who from the difference of country, 
language, and interest, must lie under far greater diffi- 
culties and discouragements than those whom we sup- 
pose yearly sent out from Bermuda to preach among 
their countrymen. 

It cannot indeed be denied, that the great number 
of poor regulars, inured to hard living, and brought up 
in an implicit obedience to their superiors, hath hitherto 
given the church of Rome, in regard to her missions, 
great advantage over the reformed churches. But from 
what hath been said, it is, I think, evident, that this 
advantage may be overbalanced by our employing Ame- 
rican missionaries. 

Nor is the honour of the crown, nation, and church 



A *ROPOSAL, &e. 42ft 

of England, unconcerned in this scheme ; which, it is to 
be hoped, will remove the reproach we have so long 
lain under, that we fell as far short of our neighbours 
of the Romish communion in zeal for propagating reli- 
gion, as we surpass them in the soundness and purity of 
it And at the same time, that the doing what may be 
so easily done, takes away our reproach ; it will cast no 
small lustre on his Majesty's reign, and derive a blessing 
from Heaven on his administration, and those who live 
under the influence thereof. 

Men of narrow minds have a peculiar talent at 6b»» 
jection, being never at a loss for something to say against 
whatsoever is not of their own proposing. And perhaps 
it will be said, in opposition to this proposal, that if we 
thought ourselves capable of gaining converts to the 
church, we ought to begin with infidels, papists, and 
dissenters of all denominations, at home, and to make 
proselytes of these before we think of foreigners ; and 
' that therefore our scheme is against duty. And farther, 
that considering the great opposition, which is found on 
the part of those who differ from us at home, no success 
can be expected among savages abroad, and that there* 
fore it is against reason and experience. 

In answer to this I say, that religion like light is im- 
parted without being diminished. That whatever is done 
abroad, can be no hinderance or let to the conversion of 
infidels or others at home. That those who engage in 
this affair imagine they will not be missed, where there 
is no want of schools or clergy ; but that they may be 
of singular service in countries but thinly supplied with 
either, or altogether deprived of both : that our colonies 
being of the same blood, language, and religion, with - 
ourselves, are in effect our countrymen. But that 
Christian charity, not being limited by those regards, 
doth extend to all mankind. And this may serve for 
an answer to the first point, that our design is against 
* duty. . 



286 A proposal, fcc. 

To tike second point X answer ; that ignorance, is not 

M incurable .as error ; that you must pull down as well 

as build, £iase as well *s imprint, in order to make 
proselytes at home : whereas, the savage Americana, 

if they are in a state purely natural, and unimproved by 
education, they are also unincumbered with all that rub- 
bish of superstition and prejudice, which is the effect of a 
wrong one. As they are less instructed, they are withal 
l^sp conceited, and more teachable. And not being 
violently attached to any false system of their own, ace 
so much the fitter to receive that which is true. Hence 
it is evident, that success abroad ought not to be mea- 
sured by that which we observe at home, and that the 
inference which was made from the difficulty of the 
one to the impossibility of the other, is altogether 
groundless. 

It hath more the appearance of reason to object 
{what will possibly be objected by some) that this scheme 
hath been already tried to no purpose, several Indians 
.having returned to their savage manners after they had 
been taught to write and read, and instructed in the 
Christian religion ; a clear proof that their natural stu- 
pidity is not to be overcome by education. 

In answer to this, I say, that the scheme now pro- 
posed hath never been tried, forasmuch as a thorough 
education in religion and morality, in Divine and human 
learning, doth not appear to have been ever given to any 
savage American : that much is to be hoped from a man 
ripe in years, and well grounded in religion and useful 
knowledge, while little or nothing can be expected from 
a youth but slightly instructed in the elements of either: 
that from the miscarriage or gross stupidity of some, a 
general incapacity of all Americans cannot be fairly in- 
ferred : that they shew as much natural sense as other 
uncultivated nations : that the empires of Mexico and 
Peru were evident proofs of their capacity, in which 
there appeared a relish of politics, and a degree of art 



A PROPOSAL, &c. 237 

and politeness, which no European people were ever 
known to have arrived at without the use of letters or of 
iron, and which some perhaps have fallen short of with 
both those advantages. 

To what hath been said, it may not be improper to 
add, that young Americans, educated in an island at 
some distance from their own country, will more easily 
be kept under discipline till they have attained a com- 
plete education, than on the continent; where they 
might find opportunities of running away to their coun- 
trymen, and returning to their brutal customs, before 
they were thoroughly imbued with good principles and 
habits. 

It must nevertheless be acknowledged a difficult 
attempt, to plant religion among the Americans, so long 
as they continue their wild and roving life. He who is 
obliged to hunt for his daily food, will have little curi- 
osity or leisure to receive instruction. It would seem 
therefore the right way, to introduce religion and civil 
life at the same time into that part of the world : either 
attempt will assist and promote the other. Those there- 
fore of the young savages, who upon trial are found less 
likely to improve by academical studies, may be taught 
agriculture, or the most necessary trades. And when 
husbandmen, weavers, carpenters, and the like, have 
planted those useful arts among their savage country- 
men, and taught them to live in settled habitations, to 
canton out their land and till it, to provide vegetable 
food of all kinds, to preserve flocks and herds of cattle, 
to make convenient houses, and to clothe themselves 
decently : this will assist the spreading the gospel among 
them ; this will dispose them to social virtues, and ena- 
ble them to see and to feel the advantages of a religious 
and civil education. 

And that this view of propagating the gospel and 
civil life among the savage nations of America, was a 
principal motive vv/ii ch induced the crown to send the 



f - 

218 n A PROPOSAL, &C. 

first English colonies thither, doth appear from' the 
charter granted by King James I. to the adventurers in 
Virginia. (See Purchases Pilgrims, vol. iv. b. i. c. ix.) 
And it is now but just (what might then seem chari- 
table) that these poor creatures should receive some ad- 
vantage with respect to their spiritual interests, from 
those who have so much improved their temporal, by 
settling among them. 

It is most true, nowithstanding our present corrup- 
tions, that there are to be found in no country under 
the sun men of better inclinations, or greater abilities 
for doing good, than in England. But it is as true, 
that success, in many cases, depends not upon zeal, 
industry, wealth, learning, or the like faculties, so much 
as on the method wherein these are applied. We often 
see a small proportion of labour and expense in one way 
bring that about, which in others a much greater share 
of both could never effect. It hath been my endeavour 
to discover this way or method in the present case. 
What hath been done, I submit to the judgment of all 
good and reasonable men ; who, I am persuaded, will 
never reject or discourage a proposal of this nature, on 
the score of slight objections, surmises, or difficulties, 
and thereby render themselves chargeable with the hav- 
ing prevented those good effects which might otherwise 
have been produced by it. 

For it is, after all, possible, that unforeseen diffi- 
culties may arise in the prosecution of this design, many 
things may retard, and many things may threaten to 
obstruct it ; but there is hardly any enterprise or scheme 
whatsoever, for the public good, in which difficulties 
are not often shewing themselves, and as often over- 
come by the blessing of God, upon the prudence and 
resolution of the undertakers ; though, for aught that 
appears, the present scheme is as likely to succeed, and 
attended with as few difficulties, as any of this kind can 
possibly be. 



• 



A PROPOSAL, &c. 229 

to any man who considers the Divine power of 
religion, the innate force of reason and virtue, and the 
mighty effects often wrought by the constant regular 
operation even of a weak and small cause ; it will seem 
natural and reasonable to suppose, that rivulets perpe- 
tually issuing forth from a fountain or reservoir of 
learning and religion, and streaming through all parts of 
America, must in due time have a great effect, in pur- 
ging away the ill manners and irreligion of out* colonies, 
as well as the blindness and barbarity of the nations 
round them : especially, if the reservoir be in a clean \ 
and private place, where its waters, out of the way of . 
any thing that may corrupt them, remain clear and pure ; 
otherwise they are more likely to pollute than purify the 
places through which they flow. 

The greatness of a benefaction is rather in propor- 
tion to the number and want of the receivers, than to 
the liberality of the giver. A wise and good man would 
therefore be frugal in the management of his charity : 
that is, contrive it so that it might extend to the great- 
est wants of the greatest number of his fellow-creatures. 
Now the greatest wants are spiritual wants, and by all 
accounts these are no where greater than in our western 
plantations, in many parts whereof Divine service is never 
performed for want of clergymen ; in others, after such 
a manner and by such hands, as scandalize even the 
worst of their own parishioners ; where many English, 
instead of gaining converts, are themselves degenerated 
into heathens, being members of no church, without 
morals, without faith, without baptism. There can be 
therefore, in no part of the Christian world, a greater 
want of spiritual things than in our plantations. 

And, on the other hand, no part of the gentile world 
are so inhuman and barbarous as the savage American?, 
whose chief employment and delight consisting in cru- 
elty and revenge, their lives must of all others be most 
opposite, as well to the light of nature as to the spirit 



230 A ' PROPOSAL, &C. ^P 

of the gospel. Now to reclaim these poor wretches, to 
prevent the many torments and cruel deaths which they 
daily inflict on each other, to contribute in any sort to 
put a stop to the numberless horrid crimes which they 
commit without remorse, and instead thereof to intro- 
duce the practice of virtue and piety, must surely be a 
work in the highest degree becoming every sincere and 
charitable Christian. 

Those who wish well to religion and mankind, will 
need no other motive to forward an undertaking calcu- 
lated for the service of both : I shall, nevertheless, beg 
leave to observe, that whoever would be glad to cover a 
multitude of sins by an extensive and well-judged cha- 
rity, or whoever, from an excellent and godlike temper 
of mind, seeks opportunities of doing good in his gene- 
ration, will be pleased to meet with a scheme that so 
peculiarly puts it in his power, with small trouble or ex- 
pense, to procure a great and lasting benefit to the 
World. 

Ten pounds a year would (if I mistake not) be suf- 
ficient to defray the expense of a young American in 
the college of Bermuda, as to diet, lodging, clothes, 
books, and education : and if so, the interest of two 
hundred pounds may be a perpetual fund for maintain- 
ing one missionary at the college for ever ; and in this 
succession many, it is to be hoped, may become power- 
ful instruments for converting to Christianity and civil 
life whole nations, who now " sit in darkness and the 
shadow of death," and whose cruel brutal manners are a 
disgrace to human nature. 

A benefaction of this kind seems to enlarge the very 
being of a man, extending it to distant places and to 
future times ; inasmuch as unseen countries and after- 
ages may feel the effects of his bounty, while he himself 
reaps the reward in the blessed society of all those, whp, 
having turned « many to righteousness, shine as the 
stars for ever and ever." 




VERSES, 



ON THE 



PROSPECT OF PLANTING 



ARTS AND LEARNING 



m 



AMERICA. 






I 



il 



L. 







vers es; 



#c. 



Thb Muse, disgusted at an age and clime, 

Barren of every glorious theme, 
In distant lands now waits a better time, 

Producing subjects worthy fame : 

In happy climes, where from the genial sun 
And virgin earth such scenes ensue, 

The force of art by nature seems outdone, 
And fancied beauties by the true : 

In happy climes the seat of innocence, 
Where nature guides and virtue rules, 

Where men shall not impose for truth and sense, 
The pedantry of courts and schools : 

There shall be sung another golden age, 

The rise of empire and of arts, 
The good and great inspiring epic rage, 

The wisest heads and noblest hearts. 



vol. in. 




234 VBBSES; &c. 

Not such as Europe breeds in her decay ; 

Such as she bred when fresh and young, 
When heavenly flame did animate her clay, 

By future poets shall be sung. 

Westward the course of empire takes its way ; 

The four first acts already past, 
A fifth shall close the drama with the day ; 

Time's noblest offspring is the last. 




Z3J 



SERMON, 

PREACHED BEFORE THE 

INCORPORATEI>-She-G4ETY 

FOR THE 

PROPAGATION OF THE GOSPEL 

IN FOREIGN PARTS; 

AT THEIR 

ANNIVERSARY MEETING IN THE PARISH-CHURCH OF ST. MARY-LfcBOW, 

ON FRIDAY, FEBRUARY IB, 1731. 



i 



n 2 



!i 



J 



• 



r * • 



* .': 



SERMON, &c. 



This ifl life eternal, that they may know thee the only true God, and 
Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent— Johm x?8. 5. 

That human kind were not designed merely to sojourn 
a few days upon this earth : that a being of such excel- 
lence as the soul of man, so capable of a nobler life, and 
having such a high sense of things moral and intel- 
lectual, was not created in the sole view of being impri- 
soned in an earthly tabernacle, and partaking a few pains 
and pleasures which chequer this mortal life, without 
aspiring to any thing either above or beyond it, is a; 
fundamental doctrine as well of natural religion as of 
the Christian. It comes at once recommended by the 
authority of philosophers and evangelists. And that 
there actually is in the mind of man a strong instinct 
and desire, an appetite and tendency, towards another 
and a better state, incomparably superior to the present, 
both in point of happiness and duration; is no more than 
every one's experience and inward feeling may inform 
him. The satiety and disrelish attending sensual enjoy- 
ments, the relish for things of a more pure and spiritual 
kind, the restless motion of the mind, from one terrene 
object or pursuit to another, and often a flight or en- 
deavour above them all towards something unknown, 
and perfective of its nature, are so many signs and 
tokens of this better state, which in the style of the gos- 
pel is termed life eternal. 

And as this is the greatest good that cair befal us, 



238 A SERMON, &C. 

the very end of our being, and that alone which can 
crown and satisfy our wishes, and without , which we 
shall be ever restless and uneasy ; so every mag, who 
knows and acts up to his true interest, must make it his 
principal care and study to obtain it : and in order to 
this, he must endeavour to live suitably to his calling, 
and of consequence endeavour to make others obtain it 
too. For how can a Christian shew himself worthy of 
his calling otherwise than by performing the duties of 
it ? And what Christian duty is more essentially so 
than that of charity ? And what object can be found 
upon earth more deserving our charity than the souls 
of men ? Or how is it possible for the most beneficent 
spirit to do them better service, than by promoting their 
best and mo6t lasting interest, that is, by putting them 
\ in the way that leads to eternal life. 

What this eternal life was, or how to come at it, 
were points unknown to the heathen world., It must 
be owned, the wise men of old, who followed the light 
of nature, saw even by that light, that the soul of man 
was debased, and borne downwards, contrary to its na- 
tural bent, by carnal and terrene objects ; and that, on 
the other hand, it was exalted, purged, and in some sort 
assimilated to the Deity, by the contemplation of truth 
and practice of virtue. Thus much in general they saw 
or surmised. But then about the way and means to 
know the one, or perform the other, they were much at 
a loss. They were not agreed concerning the true end 
of mankind; which, as they saw, was mistaken in the 
vulgar pursuits of men ; so they found it much more 
easy to confute the errors of others, than to ascertain 
the truth themselves. Hence so many divisions and 
disputes about a point which it most imported them to 
know, insomuch as it was to give the bias to human 
life, and govern the whole tenor of their actions and 
conduct. 

But when life and immortality were brought to light 



V A SSBKOV, &C. 239 

by the gospel, there could remain no dispute about the 
chief end and felicity of man, ho more than there could 
about the means of obtaining it, after the express de- 
claration of our blessed Lord in the words of my text ; 
" This is life eternal, that they may know thee, the only 
true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou hast sent." For 
the right understanding of which words we must ob- 
serve, that by the knowledge of God, is not meant a 
barren speculation, either of philosophers or scholastic 
divines, nor any notional tenets fitted to produce dis- 
putes and dissensions among men ; but, on the contrary, 
a holy practical knowledge, which is the source, the 
root, or principle, of peace and union, of faith, hope, 
charity, and universal obedience. A man may frame 
the most accurate notions, and in one sense attain the 
exactest knowledge of God and Christ that human 
faculties can reach, and yet, notwithstanding all this, be 
far from knowing them in that saving sense. For St. 
John tells us, that " whosoever sinneth, hath not seen 
Christ, nor known him."* And again, " He that loveth 
not, knoweth not God."f To know God as we ought, 
we must love him ; and love him so as withal to love 
our brethren, his creatures, and his children. I say, 
that knowledge of God and Christ, which is life eternal, 
implies universal charity, with all the duties ingrafted 
thereon, or ensuing from thence, that is to say, the love 
of God and man. And our Lord expressly saith, " He 
that hath my commandments, and keepeth them, he it 
is that loveth me."% From all which it is evident, 
that this saving knowledge of God is inseparable from 
the knowledge and practice of his will ; the explicit de- 
claration whereof, and of the means to perform it, are 
contained in the gospel, that Divine instrument of grace 
and mercy to the sons of men. The metaphysical 
knowledge of God, considered in his absolute nature or 
essence, is one thing, and to know him as he stands 

* John iii. 6. f 1 John iv. 8. £ John xiv. 21. 



240 A SERMON, &C 

related to us as Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, is 
another. The former kind of knowledge (whatever it 
amounts to) hath been, ' and may be, in gentiles as well 
as Christians, but not the latter, which is life eternal. 

From what has been said, it is a plain consequence, 
that whoever is a sincere Christian, cannot be indiffer- 
ent about bringing over other men to the knowledge of 
God and Christ ; but that every one of us, who hath 
any claim to that title, is indispensably obliged, in duty 
to God and in charity to his neighbour, to desire and 
promote, so far as there is opportunity, the conversion 
of heathens and infidels, that so they may become par- 
takers of life and immortality. For " this is life eternal, 
to know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom 
thou hast sent." 

In my present discourse upon which words, I shall, 

First, Consider in general, the obligation that 
Christians lie under, of bringing other men to 
the knowledge of the only true God, and of Jesus 
Christ. And, 

Secondly, I shall consider it in reference to this laud- 
able society, instituted for the propagation of the 
gdspel. And under each head ; I propose to ob- 
viate such difficulties as may seem to retard, and 
intermix such remarks as shall appear proper to 
forward, so good a work. 

Now although it be very evident, that we can really 
have neither a just zeal for the glory of God, nor a be- 
neficent love of man, without wishing and endeavour* 
ing, as occasion serves, to spread the glad tidings of 
salvation, and bring those who are benighted in the 
shadow of death, to life eternal, by the knowledge of 
the only true God, and of Jesus Christ whom he hath, 
sent ; yet this duty, plain and undoubted as it seems, 
happens to be too often overlooked, even by those 
whose attention to other points would make one think 



a $£bmoh; &c. 24 f 

their neglect of this, not an effect of lukewarm indiffer- 
ence, so much as of certain mistaken notions and sup- 
positions. Two principal considerations occur, which, 
in this particular, seem to have slackened the industry 
of some, otherwise zealous and serious Christians. 

One I apprehend to be this, that it is surmised the 
Christian religion is in a declining state, which by many 
symptoms seems likely to end either in popery, or a 
general infidelity. And that of course a prudent person 
has nothing to do but to make sure of his own salva- 
tion, and to acquiesce in the general tendency of things, 
without being at any fruitless pains to oppose what can- 
not be prevented, to steer against the stream, or resist 
a torrent, which, as it flows, gathers strength and rapid- 
ity, and in the end will be sure to overflow, and carry 
all before it. When a man of a desponding and fore- 
boding spirit hath been led, by his observation of the 
ways of the world and the prevailing humour of our 
times, to think after this manner, he will be inclined to 
strengthen this his preconceived opinion, as is usual in 
other the like cases, by misapplication of Holy Scrip- 
ture : fot instance, by those words of our blessed Sa- 
viour, " When the Son of man cometh, shall he find 
faith on the earth ?"* which have been applied to this 
very purpose, as importing that, before the final judg- 
ment, Christian faith should be extinguished upon 
earth; although these words do, from the context, seem 
plainly to refer to the destruction of Jerusalem, and the 
obstinate blindness of the Jews, who even then, when 
they felt the hand of God, should not acknowledge it; 
or believe the Roman army to be the instrument of 
Divine vengeance, in the day of their visitation, by him 
whom they had injuriously treated, rejected, and put to 
death. 

But, granting the former sense might be supported 
by no absurd hypothesis, or no improbable guess ; yet 

* Luke xviii. 8. 



242 A SBRMOff, &C. 

shall the endeavours of Christian men for propagating 
the gospel of Christ be forestalled by any suppositions or 
conjectures whatsoever ? Admitting, I say, those words 
regard the future advent of Jesus Christ, yet can any 
one tell how near or how far off that advent may be ? 
Are not the times and seasons foreknown only to God ? 
And shall we neglect a certain duty to-day, upon an 
uncertain surmise of what is to come hereafter ? This 
way of thinking might furnish as strong reasons against 
preaching at home as abroad, within as without the 
pale of the church. It would be as specious an argu- 
ment against the one as the other, but in reality can 
conclude against neither. For as we know not when 
that supposed time of general infidelity is to be, or whe- 
ther it will be at all ; so, if it were ever so sure, and ever 
so near, it would nevertheless become us to take care, 
that it may not be an effect of our own particular indif- 
ference and neglect. 

But if we take our notions, not from the uncertain 
interpretation of a particular text, but from the whole 
tenor of the Divine oracles, from the express promise 
and reiterated predictions of our blessed Lord and his 
apostles, we shall believe, that " Jesus Christ is highly 
exalted of God, to the end, that at his name every knee 
shall bow, and every tongue confess that he is the Lord, 
to the glory of God the Father."* That "he must 
reign till he hath put all enemies under his feet."f That 
" he is with us alway, even unto the end of the world.*! 
And that the church of the living God, the pillar and 
ground of truth, is so far from being destroyed by 
human means, " that the gates of hell (all the infernal 
powers) shall not prevail against it."§ Let us therefore 
banish all such conceits as may seem to justify our in- 
dolence, as may reason us out of all courage and vigour 
in the- race that is set before us; let us not, I say, 

• Phil. ii. 9— 11. +1 Cor. xv. 25. 

% Matt, xxviii. 20. $ Matt. xvi. 18* 



A SSBMON, &C. 243 

slacken our own hands, nor enfeeble our own knees, by 
preconceived fancies and suppositions, considering that 
as the success of all enterprises in great measure depends 
on the spirit of the undertakers, so nothing is more 
apt to raise a spirit than hope ; nor to depress it than 
despondency. We ought therefore to shake off every 
vain fear in our spiritual warfare. The number, the 
presumption, and the abilities, of those who take counsel 
together against the Lord and against Ins Anointed, 
should not dishearten, but rather excite and encourage 
us to stand in the gap. 

Another consideration, that may possibly withhold 
divers sincere believers from contributing their endea- 
vours for bringing men to the knowledge of God and 
Christ, and thereby to eternal life, is the want of mira- 
cles in the present age. Men naturally cast about for 
reasons to countenance the part they take. And as the 
gift of miracles was of mighty influence and help to 
those who were commissioned to spread abroad the 
light of the gospel in its first promulgation, so no pre- 
tence offers itself more naturally to excuse a man from 
executing any purpose than the want of authority, 
which, in the opinion of men, cannot be without a just 
commission, nor this unless distinguished by those 
proper .means and powers that have been known to at- 
tend it. Now, with regard to this defect of miracles, I 
shall beg leave to make two observations. 

First, It is to be observed, that if we have not mira- 
cles, we have other advantages which make them less 
necessary now than in the first spreading of the gospel: 
whole nations have found the benefit of Christ's reli- 
gion : it is protected by princes, established and encou- 
raged by laws, supported by learning and arts, recom- 
mended by the experience of many ages, as well as by 
the authority and example of the wisest and most know- 
ing men. Certainly, if the greatest part of mankind 
are gentiles or Mahometans, it cannot be denied that 



244 A SERMON, &C. 

the most knowing, most learned, and most' improved 
nations, profess Christianity ; and that even the Maho- 
metans themselves bear testimony to the Divine mission 
of Jesus Christ. Whereas therefore, in the beginning, 
a few illiterate wanderers, of the meanest of the people, 
had the prejudices, the learning, and the power, of their 
own, as well as other nations, in one word, '. the whole 
world, to oppose and overcome : those who at this day 
engage in the propagation of the gospel, do it upon 
terms in many respects far more easy and advantageous. 
It is power against weakness, civility against barbarism, 
knowledge against ignorance, some or other, if not all 
these advantages, in the present times, attending the 
progress of the Christian religion, in whatever part of 
the world men shall attempt to plant it* 

In the second place we may. reflect, that if we have 
not the gift of miracles, . this is a good reason why we 
should exert more strongly those human means which 
God hath put in our power ; and make our ordinary 
faculties, whether of the head, or the hand, Or the 
tongue, our interest, our credit, or our fortune, subser- 
vient to the great giver of them ; and cheerfully con- 
tribute our humble mite towards hastening that time 
wherein " all nations whom thou hast made, shall come 
and worship before thee, O Lord, and shall glorify thy 
name/ 9 * It is at least a plain case, that the want of 
apostolical gifts should not be pleaded as a bar to our 
doing that, which in no respect, either of difficulty or 
danger, equals or approaches the apostolical office. 
What pretence can this supply for men's being quite 
unconcerned about the spreading of the gospel, or the 
salvation of souls; for men's forgetting that they are 
Christians, and related to human kind ? How can this 
justify their overlooking opportunities which lie in their 
way, their not contributing a small part of their fortune 
towards forwarding a design, wherein they share neither 

* Psalm Ixxxvi. 9. 



A SBBMON, &CC. 245 

pains nor peril ; the not bestowing on it even the cheap 
assistance of their speech, attention, counsel, or coun- 
tenance, as occasion offers ? How unlike is this worldly 
selfish indifference, to that account which St. Paid 
gives of himself, that " he sought not his own profit, 
but the profit of many, that they may be saved."* And 
yet herein he expected the Corinthians (and the same 
reason will hold for us) should be like him ; for he sub- 
joins, " Be ye followers of me as I also am of Christ." 

Having considered the duty in general, I come now 
to treat of it with reference to America, the peculiar 
province of this venerable society; which I suppose 
well informed of the state and progress of religion in 
that part of the world, by their, correspondences with 
the clergy upon their mission. It may nevertheless be 
expected that one who had been engaged in a design 
upon this very view, who hath been upon the place, and 
resided a considerable time in one of our colonies, should 
have observed somewhat worth reporting. It is to be 
hoped, therefore, that one part of my audience will par- 
don what the other may perhaps expect, while I detain 
them with the narrative of a few things I have observ- 
ed, and such reflections as thereupon suggested them- 
selves ; some part of which .may possibly be found to 
extend to other colonies. 

Rhode-Island, with a portion of the adjacent conti- 
nent, under the same government, is inhabited by an 
English colony, consisting chiefly of sectaries of many 
different denominations, who seem to have worn off 
part of that prejudice which they inherited from their an- 
cestors, against the national church of this land ; though 
it must be acknowledged at the same time, that too 
many of them have worn off a serious sense of all reli- 
gion. Several indeed of the better sort are accustomed 
to assemble themselves regularly on the Lord's day for 
the performance of Divine worship. But most of those, 

• 1 Cor. x. 33. 



246 A SERMON, &C. 

who are dispersed throughout this colony, seem to rival, 
some well-bred people of other countries, in a thorough 
indifference for all that is sacred, being equally careless 
of outward worship, and of inward principles, whether 
of faith or practice. Of the bulk of them it may certain- 
ly be said, that they live without the sacraments, not 
being so much as baptized : and as &r their morals, 1 
apprehend there is nothing to be found in them that 
should tempt others to make an experiment of their 
principles, either in religion or government. But it 
must be owned, the general behaviour of the inhabitants 
in those towns where churches and meetings have been 
long settled, and regularly attended, seems so much 
better, as sufficiently to shew the difference, which a 
solemn regular worship of God makes between persons 
of the same blood, temper, and natural faculties. 

The native Indians, who are said to have been for- 
merly many thousands, within the compass of this colo- 
ny, do not at present amount to one thousand, includ- 
ing every age and sex. And these are either all servants 
or labourers for the English, who have contributed more 
to destroy their bodies by the use of strong liquors, 
than by any means to improve their minds, or save their 
souls. This slow poison, jointly operating with the 
small-pox, and their wars (but much more destructive 
than both), have consumed the Indians, not only in our 
colonies, but also far and wide upon our confines. And 
having made havoc of them, is now doing the same 
thing by those who taught them that odious vice. 

The negroes in the government of Rhode-Island are 
about half as many more than the Indians ; and both 
together scarce amount to a seventh part of the whole 
colony. The religion of these people, as is natural to 
suppose, takes after that of their masters. Som£ few 
are baptised; several frequent the different assemblies: 
and far the greater part none at all. An ancient antipa- 
thy to the Indians, whom, it seems, our first planters 



A SERMON, &C. 247 

(therein, as in certain other particulars, affecting to imi- 
tate Jews rather than Christians) . imagine they had a 
right to treat on the foot of Canaanites or Amalekites, 
together with an irrational contempt of the blacks, as 
creatures of another species, who had no right to be in- 
structed or admitted to the sacraments, have proved a 
main, obstacle to the conversion of these poor people. 

To this may be added, an erroneous notion, that the 
being baptised is inconsistent with a state of slavery. To 
undeceive them in this particular, which had too nrach 
weight, it seemed a proper step, if the opinion of his 
Majesty s Attorney and Solicitor-General could be pro. 
cured. This opinion they charitably sent over, signed 
with their own hands ; which was accordingly printed 
in Rhode-Island, and dispersed throughout the planta- 
tions. I heartly wish it may produce the intended 
effect. It must" be owned, our reformed planters, inth 
respect to the natives and the slaves, might learn from 
those of the church of Rome, how it is their interest and 
duty to behave* Both French and Spaniards have in- 
termarried with Indians, to the great strength, security, 
and increase, of their colonies. ' They take care to in- 
struct both them and their negroes in the popish religion 
to the reproach of those who profess a better. They 
have also bishops and seminaries for clergy ; and it is 
not found that their colonies are worse subjects, or de- 
pend less on their mother-country, on that account. 

It should seem, that the likeliest step towards con- 
verting the heathen would be to begin with the English 
planters ; whose influence will for ever be ati obstacle to 
propagating the gospel, till they have a right sense of it 
themselves, which would shew them how much it is their 
duty to impart it to others. The missionaries employed 
by this venerable society have done, and continue to do, 
good service, in bringing those planters to a serious 
sense of religion, which, it is hoped, will in time extend 
to others. I speak it knowingly, that the ministers of 



V\ 



248 A SERMON, &C. 

the gospel, in those provinces which go by the name of 
New England, sent and supported at the expense of this 
society, have, by their sobriety of manners, discreet be- 
haviour, and a competent degree of useful knowledge, 
shewn themselves worthy the choice of those who sent 
them ; and particularly in living cm a more friendly foot 
with their brethren of the separation ; who, on their part, 
were also very much come off from that narrowness 
of spirit which formerly kept them at such an unami- 
cable distance from us. And as there is reason to 
apprehend, that part of America could not have been 
thus distinguished, and provided with such a number of 
proper persons, if one half of them bad not been sup- 
plied out of the dissenting seminaries of the country, 
who, in proportion as they attain to more liberal im- 
provements of learning, are observed to quit their pre- 
judice towards an episcopal church ; so I verily think it 
might increase the number of 6uch useful men, if pro- 
vision Were made to defray their charges in coming 
hither to receive holy orders ; passing and repassing the 
ocean, and tarrying the necessary time in London, re- 
quiring an expense that many are not able to bear. It 
would also be an encouragement to the missionaries in 
general, and probably produce good effects, if the allow- 
ance of certain missionaries were augmented, in propor- 
tion to the services they had done, and the time they 
had spent in their mission. These hints I venture to 
suggest, as not unuseful in an age, wherein all human 
encouragements are found more necessary, than at the 
first propagation of the gospel. But they are, with all 
due deference and respect, submitted to the judgment 
of this venerable audience. 

After all, it is hardly to be expected, that, so long 
as infidelity prevails at home, the Christian religion 
should thrive and flourish in our colonies abroad. Man- 
kind, it must be owned, left to themselves, are so much 
bewildered and benighted, with respect to the origin of 



A SERMON, &C. 249 . 

that evil. which they feel, and from which they are at 
a loss about the means of being freed ; that the doc- 
trines of the lapsed state of man, his reconciliation, by 
Christ, and regeneration by the Spirit, may reasonably 
be hoped to find an easy admission, as bringing with 
them light and comfort, into a mind not hardened by 
impenitency, nor fore-closed by pride, nor biassed by 
prejudice. But such is the vanity of man, that no* pre- 
judice operates more powerfully than that in favour of 
fashion ; and no fashions are so much followed by our co- 
lonies, as those of the mother-country, which they often */ 
adopt in their modes of living, to their great inconve-' 
nience, without allowing for the disparity of circum- 
stance or climate. This same humour hath made infi- 
delity (as I find it too credibly reported) spread in some 
of our wealthy plantations ; uneducated men being 
more apt to tread in the steps of libertines and men of 
fashion, than to model themselves by the laws and insti- • 
tutions of their mother-country, or the lives and pro- 
fessions of the virtuous and religious part of it. 

But this is not all. While those abroad are less dis- 
posed to receive, some at home are, perhaps, less dis- 
posed to propagate the gospel, from the same cause. 
It is to be feared, I say, that the prevailing torrent of 
infidelity, which staggers the faith of some, may cool 
the zeal and damp the spirit of others, who judging 
from the event and success of those who impugn the. 
church of Christ, may possibly entertain some scruple 
or surmise, whether it may not be, for the present at • 
least, abandoned by Providence, and that human care 
must ineffectually interpose, till it shall please God, "yet . 
once more to shake not the earth only, but also the 
heavens." This point hath been touched before, but 
deserves farther consideration : to the end, that the pecu- 
liar impiety of a profane age, may not be a bar to those 
very endeavours, which itself renders more necessary, 
and calls for more loudly, now than ever. 
vol. in. s 



350 A SERMON, &C. 

Whatever man may think, the arm of the Lord is 
not shortened; In all this prevalency of atheism and 
irreligion, there is no advantage gained by the powers 
of darkness, either against God, or godly men, but only 
against their own wretched partisans. The Christian 
dispensation is a dispensation of grace and favour. The 
Christian church a society of men entitled to this gtace, 
on performing certain conditions. If this society is di- 
minished, as those who remain true members of it suffer 
no loss to themselves, so God loseth no right, sufiereth 
no detriment, foregoeth no good ; his grace resisted or 
unfruitful, being no more lost to him, than the light of 
the sun shining on desert places, or among people who 
shut their eyes. 

Besides, this excess, this unstemmed torrent of pro* 
faneness, may possibly, in the conclusion, defeat itself, 
confirm what it meant to extirpate, and instead of de- 
stroying, prove a means of preserving our religion ; the 
evil fruits and effects thereof being so notorious and fla- 
grant, and so sensibly felt, as in all likelihood to be able 
to open the eyes, and rouse the attention of those, who 
may be blind and deaf to every other argument and 
consideration. Or, who knows but the Christian church, 
corrupted by prosperity, is to be restored and purified 
by adversity ; which, may prove, for aught we can tell, 
as salutary in future as it hath been in past ages. Many 
insolent and presumptuous foes have set themselves 
against the church of God ; whose hook nevertheless 
may be in their nostrils, and his bridle in their lips,* ma- 
naging and governing, even their rage and folly, to the 
fulfilling of his own wise purposes ; and who may not 
fail in the end, to deal by them as he did by the king 
of Assyria, when he had "performed his work upon 
Sion and upon Jerusalem, punishing their stout heart 
and high looks."* This presumptuous conqueror was, 
without knowing it, a tool or instrument in the hands 

♦lit. x. 12. 



A SERMON 1 , &e. 251 

■ 

of that God whom he blasphemed. " O Assyrian, the 
rod of mine anger ! I will send him against a hypo- 
critical nation, and against the ptople of my wrath will 
I give him a charge to take the spoil, and to take the 
prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the 
streets. Howbeit he meaneth not so, neither doth his 
heart think so, but it is in his heart to destroy and cut 
off nations not a few."* 

Thus much at least is evident : it is no new thing, 
that great enormities should produce great humiliations, 
and these again noble virtues, which have often reco- 
vered both single men, and whole states, even in a na- 
tural and civil sense. And if the captivities, distresses, 
and desolations, of the Jewish church, have occasioned 
their return to God, and reinstated them in his favour ; 
nay, if it was actually foretold, whenever they lay under 
the curse of God, at the mercy of their enemies, peeled 
and scattered in a foreign land, that nevertheless upon 
their calling his covenant to mind, and returning to 
him, " the Lord their God would turn their captivity 
and have compassion upon them. *-f- I say, if things 
were so, why may we not in reason hope for something 
analogous thereto, in behalf of the Christian church. 
It cannot be denied, that there was a great analogy be- 
tween the Jewish institutions, and the doctrines of the 
gospel ; for instance, between the paschal lamb, and 
the Lamb of God slain from the foundation of the 
world ; between the Egyptian bondage, and that of sin ; 
the earthly Canaan, and the heavenly ; the fleshly cir- 
cumcision, and the spiritual. In these and many other 
particulars, the analogy seems so plain, that it can' 
hardly be disputed. To be convinced that the law of 
Moses and the Jewish economy were figures and sha-' 
dows of the evangelical, we need only look into ttife 
Epistle to the Hebrews. May we not therefore, itf jwr- 

t Isa. x. 5—7. t Dcut *■»•■ *■ 

s 2 



252 A SKAJfON, &c. . 

suance of this same analogy, suppose a similar treatment 
of the Jewish and Christian church ? 

Let us then see, on what terms the former stood 
with God, in order to discover what the latter may rea- 
sonably expect. The solemn denunciation to the Jews 
was, " If thou shalt hearken diligently unto the voice 
of the Lord thy God, to observe and to do all his com- 
mandments, which I command thee this day, that the. 
Lord thy God will set thee on high above all the na- 
tions of the earth/* But in case of disobedience, it is 
added among many other threats and maledictions, 
" The Lord shall smite thee with blasting and with 
mildew : and thy heaven that is over thy head shall be 
brass, and the earth that is under thee shall be iron "t 
And again, " The Lord shall smite thee with madness, 
and blindness, and astonishment of heart "J Have not 
the people of this land drawn down upon it, by more 
ways, than one, the just judgments of Heaven ? Surely we 
have felt in a metaphor the first of the forementioned 
judgments; and the last hath been literally fulfilled 
upon us. Is it not visible that we are less knowing, 
less virtuous, less reasonable, in proportion as we are 
less religious ? Are we not grown drunk and giddy with 
vice, and vanity, and presumption, and free- thinking, and 
extravagance of every kind, to a degree that we may 
truly be said to be smitten with madness, and blind- 
ness, and astonishment of heart ? 

As anciently most unchristian schisms and disputes,, 
joined with great corruption of manners, made way for 
the Mahometan in the east, and the papal dominion in 
the west ; even so here at home in the last century, a 
weak reliance upon human politics and power on the 
one hand, and enthusiastic rage on the other, together 
with carnal mildness on both, gave occasion to intro- 
duce atheism and infidelity. If the temporal state and 
outward fbrm* of the Jewish church was, upon their de- 

• Deut. xxviti. I . - f Ver. «2, 2S. J Ver. 28. 



A SJBBMONj &C. 253 

fection, overturned by invaders ; in like manner; when 
Christians are no longer governed by the light of evan- 
gelical truth, when we resist the Spirit of God, are we 
not to expect, that the heaven above will be as brass, 
that the Divine grace will no longer shower down on 
our obdurate hearts, that our church and profession will 
be blasted by licentious scorners, those madmen, who 
in sport scatter firebrands, arrows, and death ? As all 
this is no more than we may reasonably suppose will 
ensue upon our backsliding, so we may, with equal 
reason, hope it will be remedied upon our return to 
God. 

From what hath been said it follows, that in order 
to propagate the gospel abroad, it is necessary we do it 
at home, and extend our charity to domestic infidels, if 
we would convert or prevent foreign ones. So that a 
view of the declining state of religion here at home, of 
those things that produced this declension, and of the 
proper methods to repair it, is naturally connected with 
the subject of this discourse. I shall therefore beg your 
patience, while I just mention a few remarks or hints, too 
obvious, perhaps, in themselves to be new or unknown 
to any present, but too little visible in their effects, to 
make one think they are, by all, much attended to- 
Some, preferring points notional or ritual to the 
love of God and man, consider the national church 
only as it stands opposed to other Christian societies.' 
These generally have a zeal without knowledge, and 
the effects are suitable to the cause ; they really hurt 
what they seem to espouse. Others, more solicitous 
about the discovery of truth than the practice of holi- 
ness, employ themselves rather to spy out errors in the 
church than enforce its precepts. These, it is to be feared, 
postpone the great interests of religion to points of less 
concern in any eyes but their own. But surely they 
would do well to consider, that an humble though con- 
fused and indistinct faith in the bond of charity, and 



254, A SERMON, &C ¥ 

productive of good works, Js much more evangelical 
than any accurate disputing and conceited knowledge. 

A church which contains the fundamentals, and no- 
thing subversive of those fundamentals, is not to be set 
at nought by any particular member ; because it may 
not, in every point, perhaps, correspond with his ideas, 
no, not though he is sure of being in the right. Pro^ 
bably there never was, or will be, an established church 
in this world, without visible marks of humanity upon 
it- St Paul supposeth that, on the foundation of 
Jesus Christ there will be human superstructures of 
hay and stubble,* things light and trivial, wrong or 
superstitious, which indeed is a natural consequen c e of 
the weakness and ignorance of man. But where that 
living foundation is rightly laid in the mind, there will 
not fail to grow and spring from thence those virtues 
and graces, which are the genuine effects and tokens 
of true faith, and which are by no means inconsistent 
with every error in theory, or every needless rite in 
worship. 

The Christian religion was calculated for the bulk of 
mankind, and therefore cannot reasonably be supposed 
to consist in subtle and nice notions. From the time 
that divinity was considered as a science, and human 
reason enthroned in the sanctuary of God, the hearts 
of its professors seem to have been less under the in- 
fluence of grace. From that time have grown many 
unchristian dissensions and controversies, of men 
" knowing nothing, but doting about questions and 
strifes of words, whereof cometh envy, strife, railings, 
evil surmises, perverse disputings of men of corrupt 
minds and destitute of truth."f Doubtless, the making 
religion a notional thing, hath been of infinite disser- 
vice. And whereas its holy mysteries are rather to be 
received with humility of faith, than defined and mea- 
sured by the accuracy of human reason ; all attempts of 

• 1 Cor. iii. 12. +1 Tim.vi. 4,5. 



A SERMON, &C. 255 

this kind, however well intended, have visibly failed 
in the event ; and instead of reconciling; infidels, have, 
by creating disputes and heats among the professors of 
Christianity, given no small advantage to its enemies. 

To conclude, if we proportioned our zeal to the 
importance of things ; if we could love men whose opi- 
nions we do not approve ; if we knew the world more, 
and liked it less ; if we had adue sense of the Divine per- 
fection and our own defects ; if our chief study was the 
wisdom from above, described by St. Paul ; and if, in 
order to all this, that were done in places of education 
which cannot be done so well out of them : I say, if 
these steps were taken at home, while proper measures 
are carrying on abroad, the one would very much for- 
ward or facilitate the other. As it is not meant so it 
must not be understood, that foreign attempts should 
wait for domestic success, but only that it is to be wished 
they may co-operate. Certainly if a just and rational, 
a genuine and sincere, a warm and vigorous piety, ani- 
mated the mother-country, the influence thereof would 
soon reach our foreign plantations, and extend through- 
out their borders. We should soon see religion shine 
forth with new lustre and force, to the conversion of 
infidels, both at home and abroad, and, to " the casting 
down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth 
itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into 
captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ."* 
To whom, with the Father, and the Holy Ghost, 
be ascribed all praise, might, majesty, and domi- 
nion, now and for ever. 

* 2 Cor. x. 5. 



S I R I S: 



A CHAIN OF 



PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTIONS 



AMD 



INQUIRIES 



oovcx&vrifo 



THE VIRTUES OF TAR WATER; 



AND DIVERS OTHER SUBJECTS CONNECTED TOGETHER AND 

ARISING ONE FROM ANOTHER. 



F. 



CONTENTS. 



SECT. 

Tar Water, how made ---------*-i 

How much to be taken at a time ------ 3, ll6 

How long to be continued --------- no 

How made palatable ---^------- 115 

A preservative and preparative against the small-pox - - 2 

A cure for foulness of blood, ulceration of bowels, lungs, coo» 

sumptive/xHighs, pleurisy, peripneumony, erysipelas, asthma, 

indigestion, cachectic and hysteric cases, gravel, dropsy, and 

all inflammations .--•------. - - 4. 7 

Answers all Jthe purposes of elixir proprietatis, Stougbton's drops, 
best turpentine, decoction of the woods, and mineral waters 

53. 61. 65 
And of the most costly balsams ------ 21, 22. 63 

May be given to children ---------- Qj 

Of great use in the gout --------- 68. 80 

In fevers --------------- 75*114 

Cures a gangrene as well as erysipelas - - - - - 82, 83 

The scurvy, and all hypochondriac maladies - - - 86. 109 
A preservative for the teelh and gums ------ 114 

Is particularly recommended to seafaring persons, ladies, and 
men of studious and sedentary lives - - - - •117.119 

Its specific virtues consist in its volatile salts - - - 8* 123 
Its virtues heretofore known, but only in part - - 9. 1 1. 1 12 
Tar, whence produced ---.---'-- 10. 17 
Resin, whence ------------ 18, 19 

Turpentine, what ------------ 20 

Tar mixed with honey, a cure for the cough - - - - 21 

Resin, an effectual cure for the bloody-flux - - - - 79 

Scotch firs what, and how they might be improved - - 25 
Pine and fir, different species of each ... - - 26* 28 

The wonderful structure of trees - 29. 38 

Juice* produced with the least violence best ... - 46 



290 ' CONTENTS. 



■ 



SECT. 

Myrrh -soluble by the human body would prolong life - 49 

Tar water, by what means and in what manner it operates 

50. n 
Is a soap at once and a vinegar --'-•--.-. 59 

Aromatic flavours and vegetables depend on light as much as 

colours .---.-.-*.-- 40. 214, £15 

Analogy between the specific qualities of vegetable juices and 

' coteuro - 165 

A fine 'subtile spirit, the distinguishing principle of all vege- 
tables -.-.---.181 

WHai the principle of vegetation, and how promoted H6. 128 
Theory of acids, salts, and alcalies* - - ' - - 129. 156. 227 
Air the common seminary of all vivifying p rincip l es ' - •- 137 
Air, of what it consist* - -• - - - - 147. 151. 195. 197 

Pure ether, or invisible fire, the spirit of the universe, which ope- 
rates in every thing - - .-- - - - . 159. 162 

Opinion of die ancients concerning it - - - • 166. 175. 229 
And of the Chinese, conformable to them - - - 180. 182 
Fire worshipped among various nations - • - - 183. 185 
Opinion of the best modern chemists concerning it - 189, 190 
Ultimately the only menstruum in nature - • - - - 191 
Adds to the weight of bodies, and even gold made by die intro- 
' duction of h into quicksilver - - - - - - - 192.195 

The theory of Ficinos and others concerning light - 206. 213 
Sir Isaac ' Newton's hypothesis of a subtile ether examined 

221. 228. 237. 246 

No accounting for phenomena, either by attraction and repulsion, 

or by elastic ether, without the presence of an incorporeal 

agent - - 231.238.246.249*294.297 

Attraction in some degree discovered by Galilsei - - - 245 
Phenomena are but appearances in the soul, not to be accounted 
for upon mechanical principles - * - - - 251, 252. 310 
Hie ancients not ignorant of many things in physics and meta- 
physics, which we think the discovery of modern times 

265. 269 
Had some advantage beyond us-------- 298 

Of absolute space, and fate - 270. 273 

Of the anima mundi of Plato 276. 284. 322 

What meant by the Egyptian Isis and Osiris - - 268. 299 
Plato and Aristotle's threefold distinction of objects 306, 307 



CONTENTS. 261 

SECT. 

Their opinion of ideas being innate, or not ... 308, 309 
Neither of them believed the absolute existence of corporeal 

things 311,312.316.318 

The study of the philosophy of Socrates and Pythagoras would 

have secured the minds of men from the selfishness which the 

mechanic philosophy has introduced .... 331,332 

The studo of Plato recommended ...... 332. 338 

Who agrees with Scripture in many particulars ... 339 
His opinion of the Deity, and particularly of a Trinity, agreeable 

to revelation - - u - - 341.365 



* i 



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S I R I S. 



mmm 



For introduction to the following piece I assure the 
reader, that nothing could, in my present situation, 
have induced me to be at the pains of writing it, but a 
firm belief that it would prove a valuable present to the 
public. What entertainment soever the reasoning and 
notional part may afford the mind, I will venture to say, 
the other part seemeth so surely calculated to do good 
to the body, that both must be gainers. For if the lute 
be not well tuned, the musician fails of his harmony. 
And in our present state, the operations of the mind 
So far depend on the right tone or good condition of 
its instrument, that any, thing which greatly contributes 
to preserve or recover the health of the body, is well 
worth the attention of the mind. These considerations 
have moved me to communicate to the public the sa- 
lutary virtues of tar water ; to which I thought myself 
indispensably obliged, by the duty every man owes to 
mankind. And as effects are linked with their causes, 
my thoughts on this low but useful theme led to farther 
inquiries, and those on to others, remote perhaps and 
speculative, but I hope not altogether useless and un- 
entertaining. 

1. In certain parts of America, tar water is made 
by putting a quart of cold water to a quart of tar, and 
stirring them well together in a vessel, which is left 
standing till the tar sinks to the bottom. A glass of 
water being poured off for a draught, is replaced by the 
same quantity of fresh water, the vessel being shaken 
and left to stand as before. And this is repeated for 



264 siris. 

every glass, so long as the tar continues to impregnate 
the water sufficiently, which appears by the smell and 
taste. But as this method produceth tar water of a 
nauseous kind, and different degrees of strength, I choose 
to make it in the following manner. Pour a gdlon of 
cold water on a quart of tar, and stir, work, and mix 
them thoroughly together with a wooden ladle or flat 
stick, for the space of five or six minutes ; after which 
the vessel must stand close covered and unmoved three 
days and nights, that the tar may have full time to sub- 
side ; and then the clear water, having been first care- 
fully skimmed without shaking the vessel, is to be pour- 
ed off, and kept in bottles well stopped for use,* no 
more being made from the same tar, which may still 
serve for common uses. 

2. The cold infusion of tar hath been used in some 
of our colonies, as a preservative or preparative against 
the small- pox, which foreign practice induced me to by 
it in my own neighbourhood, when the small-pox raged 
with great violence. And the trial fully answered my 
expectation : all those, within my knowledge, who took 
the tar water having either escaped that distemper, or 
had it very favourably. In one family there was a re- 
markable instance of seven children, who came all very 
well through the small-pox, except one young child 
which could not be brought to drink tar water as the 
rest had done. 

3. Several were preserved from taking the small-pox 
by the use of this liquor: others had it in the mildest 
manner, and others, that they might be able to take the 
infection, were obliged to intermit drinking the tar 
water. I have found it may be drunk with great safety 
and success for any length of time, and this not only 

* I make this water stronger than that first prescribed in Sinn, 
having found, on more general experience, that five or six minutes 
stirring, when the water is carefully cleared and skimmed, agrees 
with most stomachs. 



sims. 285 

before, but also during the distemper. The general rule 
for taking it is, about half a pint night and morning on an 
empty stomach, which quantity may be varied, according 
to the case and age of the patient, provided it be always 
taken on an empty stomach, and about two hours before 
or after a meal. For children and squeamish persons it 
may be made weaker, or given little and often, more # 
water or less stirring makes it weaker ; as less water or 
more stirring makes it stronger. It should not be 
lighter than French, nor deeper coloured than Spanish 
white wine ; if a spirit be not very sensibly perceived 
on drinking, either the tar must have been bad or al- 
ready used, or the tar water carelessly made or kept. 
Particular experience will best shew how much and how 
strong the stomach can bear, and what are the pro- 
perest times for taking it. I apprehend no danger 
from excess in the use of this medicine. 

4. It seemed probable, that a medicine of such effi- 
cacy in a distemper attended with so many purulent 
ulcers, might be also useful in other foulnesses of the 
blood ; accordingly I tried it on several persons infected 
with cutaneous eruptions and ulcers, who were soon 
relieved, and soon after cured. Encouraged by these 
successes, I ventured to advise it in the foulest distem- 
pers, wherein it proved much more successful than sali- 
vations and wood drinks had done. 

5. Having tried it in a great variety of cases, I found 
it succeeded beyond my hopes ; in a tedious and pain- 
ful ulceration of the bowels, in a consumptive cough, 
and (as appeared by expectorated pus) an ulcer in the 
lungs ; in a pleurisy and peripneumony. And when 
a person who for some years had been subject to ery- 
sipelatous fevers, perceived the usual forerunning symp- 
toms to come on. I advised her to drink tar water, 
which prevented the erysipelas. 

6. I never knew any thing so good for the stomach 
as tar water : it cures indigestion and gives a good ap- 

TOL. III. T 



366 , sieis. 

petite. It is an excellent medicine in an asthma* It 
imparts a kindly warmth and quick circulation to the 
juices without heating, and is therefore useful, not 
only as a pectoral and balsamic, but also as a powerful 
and safe deobstruent in cachectic and hysteric cases. As 
it is both healing and diuretic, it is very good for the 
gravel. I believe it to be of great use hi a dropsy, 
having known it cure a very bad anarsaca in a person 
whose thirst, though very extraordinary, was in a short 
time removed by the drinking tar water. 

7, The usefulness of this medicine in inflammatory 
cases is evident, from what has been already observed.* 
And yet some perhaps may suspect that, as the tar itself 
is sulphureous, tar water must be of a hot and inflam- 
ing nature. But it is to be noted that all balsams con- 
tain an acid spirit, which is in truth a volatile salt. 
Water is a menstruum that dissolves all sorts of salts, 
and draws them from their subjects. Tar, therefore, 
being a balsam, its salutary acid is extracted by water, 
which yet is incapable of dissolving its gross resinous 
parts, whose proper menstruum is spirit of wine. There- 
fore tar water, not being impregnated with resin, may 
be safely used in inflammatory cases : and in fact it hath 
been found an admirable febrifuge, at once the safest 
cooler and cordial. 

8. The volatile salts separated by infusion from 
tar, may be supposed to contain its specific virtues. Mr. 
Boyle and other later chemists are agreed, that fixed 
salts are much the same in all bodies. But it is well 
known that volatile salts do greatly differ, and the easier 
they are separated from the subject, the more do they 
possess of its specific qualities. Now the most easy se- 
paration is by the infusion of tar in cold water, which 
to smell and taste shewing itself well impregnated, may 
be presumed to extract and retain the most pure vola- 
tile and active particles of that vegetable balsam. 

* Sect. 5. 



sibis. 267 

9. Tar was by the ancients esteemed good against 
poisons, ulcers, the bites of venomous creatures, also 
for phthisical, scrofulous, paralytic, and asthmatic per- 
sons. But the method of rendering it an inoffensive 
medicine and agreeable to the stomach, by extracting 
its virtues in cold water, was unknown to them. The 
leaves and tender tops of pine and fir are in our times 
used for diet drinks, and allowed to be antiscorbutic and 
diuretic. But the most elaborate juice, salt, and spirit,, 
of these evergreens, are to be found in tar ; whose vir- 
tues extend not to animals alone, but also to vegetables. 
Mr. Evelyn in his treatise on Forest Trees, observes with 
wonder, that stems of trees, smeared over with tar, are 
preserved thereby from being hurt by the envenomed 
teeth of goats and other injuries, while every other thing 
of an unctuous nature is highly prejudicial to them. 

10. It seems that tar and turpentine may be had, 
more or less, from all sorts of pines and firs whatsoever ; 
and that the native spirits and essential salts of those 
vegetables are the same in turpentine and common tar. 
In effect, this vulgar tar, which cheapness and plenty 
may have rendered contemptible, appears to be an ex- 
cellent balsam, containing the virtues of most other 
balsams, which it easily impai ts to water, and by that 
means readily and inoffensively insinuates them into 
the habit of the body. 

11. The resinous exudations of pines and firs are 
an important branch of the Materia Medica, and not 
only useful in the prescriptions of physicians, but have 
been also thought otherwise conducive to health. Pliny 
tells us, that wines in the time of the old Romans were 
medicated with pitch and resin ; and Jonstonus in his 
Dendrographia observes, that it is wholesome to walk 
in groves of pine-trees, which impregnate the air with 
balsamic particles. That all turpentines and resins 
are good for the lungs, against gravel also and obstruc- 
tions, is no secret. And that the medicinal properties 

x 2 



268 siris. 

of those drugs are found in tar water, without heating 
the blood, or disordering the stomach, isconfirraedby ex- 
perience ; and particularly, that phthisical and asthmatic 
persons receive speedy and great relief from the use of it. 

12. Balsams, as all unctuous and oily medicines, 
create a nauseating in the stomach. They cannot there- 
fore be taken in substance, so much or so long as to 
produce all those salutary effects, which, if thoroughly 
mixed with the blood and juices, they would be capable 
of producing. It must therefore be a thing of great be- 
nefit, to be able to introduce any requisite quantity of 
their volatile parts into the finest ducts and capillaries, 
so as not to offend the stomach, but, on the contrary, 
to comfort and strengthen it in a great degree. 

13. According to Pliny, liquid pitch (as he calls 
it) or tar was obtained by setting fire to billets of old 
fat pines or firs. The first running was tar, the latter 
or thicker running was pitch. Theophrastus is more 
particular: he tells us the Macedonians made huge 
heaps of the cloven trunks of those trees, wherein the 
billets were placed erect beside each other. That such 
heaps or piles of wood were sometimes a hundred and 
eighty cubits round, and sixty or even a hundred high : 
and that having covered them with sods of earth to pre- 
vent the flame from bursting forth (in which case the 
tar was lost), they set on fire those huge heaps of pine 
or fir, letting the tar and pitch run out in a channel. 

14. Pliny saith, it was customary for the ancients, 
to hold fleeces of wool over the stearq of boiling tar, 
and squeeze the moisture from them, which watery sub- 
stance was called pissinum. Ray will have this to be 
the same with the pisselaeum of the ancients ; but Har- 
douin, in his notes on Pliny, thinks the pisselaeum to 
have been produced from the cones of cedars. What 
use they made of these liquors anciently I know not : but 
it may be presumed they were used in medicine, though 
at present, for aught I can find, they are not used at all. 



SIRIS. 280 

1 5 • From the manner of procuring tar * it plainly 
appears to be a natural production, lodged in the vessels 
of the tree, whence it is only freed and let loose (not 
made) by burning. If we may believe Pliny, the first 
running or tar was called cedrium, and was of such effi- 
cacy to preserve from putrefaction, that in Egypt they 
embalmed dead bodies with it. And to this he ascribes 
their mummies continuing uncorrupted for so many 
ages. 

1 6. Some modern writers inform us that tar flows 
from the trunks of pines and firs, when they are very 
old, through incisions made in the bark near the root. 
That pitch is tar inspissated : and both are the oil of 
the tree grown thick and ripened with age and sun. The 
trees, like old men, being unable to perspire, and their 
secretory ducts obstructed, th6y are, as one may say, 
choked and stuffed with their own juice. 

17. The method used by our colonies in America 
for making tar and pitch, is in effect the same with that 
of the ancient Macedonians ; as appears from the ac- 
count given in the Philosophical Transactions. And 
the relation of Leo Africanus, who describes, as an eye- 
witness, the making of tar on Mount Atlas, agrees in 
substance with the methods used by the Macedonians 
of old, and the people of New England at this day. 

18. Jonstonus in his Dendrographia, is of opinion, 
that pitch was anciently made of cedar, as well as of the 
pine and fir grown old and oily. It should seem indeed 
that one and the same word was used by the ancients 
in a large sense, so as to comprehend the juices issuing 
from all those trees. Tar and all sorts of exudations 
from evergreens are, in a general acceptation, included 
under the name resin. Hard coarse resin or dry pitch 
is made from tar, by letting it blaze till the moisture 
is spent. Liquid resin is properly an oily viscid juice 
oozing from the bark of evergreen r trees, either sponta- 

* Sect. 13. 



270 satis. 

i 

neously or by incision. It is thought to be the oil of the 
bark inspissated by the sun. As it issues from the tree 
it is liquid, but becomes dry and hard being condensed 
by the sun or by fire. 

19. According to Theophrastus, resin was ob- 
tained by stripping off the bark from pines, and by in- 
cisions made in the silver fir and the pitch pine. The 
inhabitants of Mount Ida, he tells us, stripped the trunk 
of the pine on the sunny side two or three cubits from 
the ground. He observes that a good pine might be 
made to yield resin every year; an indifferent every 
other year, and the weaker trees once in three years ; 
and that three runnings were as much as a tree could 
bear. It is remarked by the same author, that a pine 
doth hot at once produce fruit and resin, but the for- 
mer only in its youth, the latter in its old age. 

20. Turpentine is a fine resin. Four kinds of this 
are in use. The turpentine of Chios or Cyprus, which 
flows from the turpentine-tree ; the Venice turpentine, 
which is got by piercing the larch-tree ; the Strasburgh 
turpentine, which Mr. Ray informs us is procured from 
the knots of the silver fir ; it is fragrant and grows 
yellow with age ; the fourth kind is common turpentine, 
neither transparent nor so liquid as the former ; and 
this Mr. Ray taketh to flow from the mountain pine. 
All these turpentines are useful in the same intentions. 
Theophrastus saith, the best resin or turpentine is got 
from the terebinthus growing in Syria and some of the 
Greek islands. The next best from the silver fir and - 
pitch pine. 

2 1 . Turpentine is on all hands allowed to have great 
medicinal virtues. Tar and its infusion contain those 
virtues. Tar water is extremely pectoral and restora- 
tive ; and if I may judge, from what experience I have 
had, it possesseth the most valuable qualities ascribed to 
the several balsams of Peru, of Tolu, of Capivi, and even 
to the balm of Gilead, such is its virtue in asthmas and 



siris. « 271 

pleurisies, obstructions and ulcerous Erosions of the 
inward parts. Tar in substance mined with honey I 
have found an excellent medicine for coughs. Balsams 
as hath been already observed are apt to offend the sto- 
mach. But tar water may be taken without offending 
the stomach. For the strengthening whereof it is the 
best medicine I have ever tried. 

22. The folly of man rateth things by their scarce- 
ness, but Providence hath made the most useful things 
most common. Among those liquid oily extracts from 
trees and shrubs, which are termed balsams, and valued 
for medicinal virtues, tar may hold its place as a most 
valuable balsam. Its fragrancy sheweth, that it is pos- 
sessed of active qualities, and its oiliness, that it is fitted 
to retain them. This excellent balsam may be pur- 
chased for a penny a pound, whereas the balsam of Ju- 
dea, when most plenty, was sold on the very spot that 
produced it, for double its weight in silver, if we may 
credit Pliny ; who also informs us, that the best balsam 
of Judea flowed only from the bark, and that it was 
adulterated with resin and oil of turpentine. Now com- 
paring the virtues I have experienced in tar, with those 
I find ascribed to the precious balm of Judea, of Gi- 
lead, or of Mecha (as it is diversely called), I am of 
opinion, that the latter is not a- medicine of more value 
or efficacy than the former. 

23. Pliny supposed amber to be a resin, and to dis- 
til from some species of pine, which he gathered from 
its smell. Nevertheless its being dug out of the €arth 
shews it to be a fossil, though of a very different kind 
from other fossils. But thus much is certain, that the 
medicinal virtues of amber are to be found in the bal- 
samic juices of pines and firs : particularly the virtues of 
the most valuable preparation, I mean #dt- of atflbtt, 
are in a great degree answered by tar water, & jp &- 
tergent, diaphoretic, and diuretic -^ 

24. There is, as hath been already observed!, fiidfe 



272 siri9. 

or less oil and balsam in all evergreen-trees, which re- 
tains the add spirit, that principle of life and verdure ; 
the not retaining whereof in sufficient quantity, causeth 
other plants to droop and wither. Of these evergreen- 
trees productive of resin, pitch and tar, Pliny enume- 
rates six kinds in Europe ; Jonstonus reckons up thrice 
that number of the pine and fir family. And, indeed, 
their number, their variety, and their likeness, make it 
difficult to be exact. 

25. It is remarked, both by Theophrastus and Jon- 
stonus, that trees growing in low and shady places do 
not yield so good tar, as those which grow in higher and 
more exposed situations. And Theophrastus farther ob- 
serves, that the inhabitants of Mount Ida in Asia, who 
distinguish the Idean pine from the maritime, affirm, 
that the tar flowing from the former is in greater 
plenty, as well as more fragrant than the other. Hence 
it should seem, the pines or firs in the mountains of 
Scotland might be employed that way, and rendered 
valuable; even where the timber, by its remoteness 
from water carriage, is of small value. What we call 
the Scotch fir is falsely so called, being in truth a wild 
forest pine, and (as Mr. Ray informs us) agreeing much 
with the description of a pine growing on Mount Olym- 
pus in Phrygia, probably the only place where it is found 
out of these islands ; in which of late years it is so much 
planted and cultivated with so little advantage, while the 
cedar of Lebanon might perhaps be raised, with little 
more trouble, and much more profit and ornament. 

26. Hie pines, which differ from the firs in the 
length and disposition of their leaves and hardness of 
the wood, do not, in Pliny's account, yield so much resin 
as the fir-trees. Several spices of both are accurately 
described and delineated by the naturalists. But they 
all agree so far as to seem related. Theophrastus gives 
the preference to that resin which is got from the silver 
fir and pitch-tree (fXant and irtruc) before that yielded by 



SIRIS. 273 

the pine, which yet he saith is in greater plenty. Pliny, 
on the contrary, affirms that the pine produceth the 
smallest quantity. It should seem therefore that the 
interpreter of Theophrastus might have been mistaken, 
in rendering irevini by pinus, as well as Jonstonus, who 
likewise takes the pine for the itcvjoi of Theophrastus. 
Hardouin will have the pinus of Pliny to have been by 
others called iraucii, but by Theophrastus ttituc* Ray thinks 
the common fir, or picea of the Latins, to be the male fir 
of Theophrastus. This was probably the spruce fir ; for 
the picea, according to Pliny, yields much resin, loves a 
cold and mountainous situation, and is distinguished, ton- 
sili facilitate by its fitness to be shorn, which agrees with 
the spruce-fir, whereof I have seen close-shorn hedges. 

27. There seems to have been some confusion in 
the naming of these trees, as well among the an- 
cients as the moderns. The ancient Greek and Latin 
names are by later authors applied very differently. 
Pliny himself acknowledge th, it is not easy even for the 
skilful to distinguish the trees by their leaves, and know 
their sexes and kinds : that the difficulty is since much 
increased, by the discovery of many new species of that 
evergreen tribe, growing in various parts of the globe. 
But descriptions are not so easily misapplied as names. 
Theophrastus tells, that vvrvq differeth from revm?, among 
other things, in that it is neither so tall nor so straight, 
nor hath so large a leaf. The fir he distinguished 
into male and female ; the latter is softer timber than 
the male, it is also a taller and fairer tree, and this is 
probably the silver fir. 

28. To say no more on this obscure business, which I 
leave to the critics, I shall observe that according to 
Theophrastus not only the turpentine- trees, the pines, 
and the firs, yield resin or tar, but also the cedars and 
palm-trees ; and the words pix and resina are taken by 
Pliny in so large a sense as to include the weepings of 
lentiscus and cypress, and the holms of Arabia and 



274 sikis. 

Judea ; all which perhaps are near of kin, tod in their 
most useful qualities concur, with common tar, especial- 
ly ^the Norwegian, which is the most liquid, and best 
for medicinal uses of any that I have experienced. Those 
trees that grow on mountains, exposed to the sun or 
the north wind, are reckoned by Theophrastus to pro- 
duce the best and purest tar ; and the Idaan pines were 
distinguished from those growing on the plain, as yield- 
ing a thinner, sweeter, and better scented tar, all which 

differences I think I have observed, between the tar that 
comes from Norway, and that, which comes from low 
and swampy countries. 

2Q. Agreeable to the old observation of the Peripa- 
tetics, that heat gathereth homogeneous things* and dis- 
persed) such as are heterogeneous, we find chemistry is 
fitted for the analysis of bodies. But the chemistry of 
nature is much more perfect than that of human art, 
inasmuch as it joineth to the power of heat that of the 
most exquisite mechanism. Those who have examined 
the structure of trees and plants by microscopes, have 
discovered an admirable variety of fine capillary tubes 
and vessels, fitted for several purposes, as the imbibing 
or attracting of proper nourishment, the distributing 
thereof through all parts of the vegetable, the discharge 
of superfluities, the secretion of particular juices. They 
are found to have ducts answering to the tracheae in ani- 
mals, for the conveying of air ; they have others an- 
swering to lacteals, arteries, and veins. They feel, digest, 
respire, perspire, and generate their kind, and are pro- 
vided with organs nicely fitted for all those uses. 

30. The sap vessels are observed to be fine tubes 
running up through the trunk from the root. Secre- 
tory vessels are found in the bark, buds, leaves, and 
flowers. Exhaling vessels, for carrying off excrementi- 
tious parts, are discovered throughout the whole surface 
of the vegetable. And (though this point be not so well 
agreed) Dr. Grew in his Anatomy of Plants, thinks then 



siBis. 275 

appears a circulation of the sap, moving downwards in 
the root, and feeding the trunk upwards. 

31. Some difference indeed there is between learned 
men, concerning the proper use of certain parts of vege- 
tables. But, whether the discoverers have rightly guess- 
ed at all their uses or no, thus much is certain, that 
there are innumerable fine and curious parts in a vege- 
table body, and a wonderful similitude or analogy be- 
tween, the mechanism of plants and animals. And per- 
haps some will think it not unreasonable to suppose the 
mechanism of plants more curious than even that of ani- 
mals, if we consider not only the several juices secreted 
by different parts of the same plant, but also the endless 
variety of juices drawn and formed out of the same soil, 
by various species of vegetables ; which must therefore 
differ in an endless variety, as to the texture of their ab- 
sorbent vessels and secretory ducts. 

32* A body, therefore, either animal or vegetable, 
may be considered as an organized system of tubes and 
vessels, containing several sorts of fluids. And as fluids 
are moved through the vessels of animal bodies by the 
systole and diastole of the heart,, the alternate ex pan f 
sion and condensation of the air, and the oscillations in 
the membranes and tunics of the vessels ; even so by 
means of air expanded and contracted in the tracheae or 
vessels made up of elastic fibres, the sap is propelled 
through the arterial tubes of a plant, and the vegetable 
juices, as they are rarefied by heat or condensed by cold ; 
will either ascend and evaporate into air, or descend in 
the form of a gross liquor. 

33. Juices therefore, first purified by straining 
through the fine pores of the root, are afterwards exalt- 
ed by the action of the air and vessels of the plant, but, 
above all, by the action of the sun's light ; which, at the 
same time that it heats, doth wonderfully rarefy and raise 
the sap ; till it perspires and forms an atmosphere, likethe 
effluvia of animal bodies* And though the leaves are sup-, 



276 siris. 

posed to perform principally the office of lungs, breathing 
out excrementitious vapours, and drawing in alimentary ; 
yet it seems probable, that the reciprocal actions of re- 
pulsion and attraction are performed all over the sur- 
face of vegetables, as well as animals. In which reci- 
procation, Hippocrates supposeth the manner of na- 
ture's acting, for the nourishment and health of animal 
bodies chiefly to consist. And, indeed, what share of 
a plant's nourishment is drawn through the leaves and 
bark, from that ambient heterogeneous fluid called air, 
is not easy to say. It seems very considerable and al- 
together necessary, as well to vegetable as animal life. 

34. It is an opinion received by many, that the sap 
circulates in plants as the blood in animals : that it as- 
cends through capillary arteries in the trunk, into which 
are inosculated other vessels of the bark answering to 
veins, which bring back to the root the remainder of 
the sap, over and above what had been deposited, during 
its ascent, by the arterial vessels, and secreted for the 
several uses of the vegetable throughout all its parts, 
stem, branches, leaves, flowers, and fruit. Others deny 
this circulation, and affirm that the sap doth not return 
through the bark vessels. It is nevertheless agreed by 
all that there are ascending and descending juices, while 
some will have the ascent and descent to be a circula- 
tion of the same juices through different vessels : others 
will have the ascending juice to be one sort attracted 
by the root, and the descending another imbibed by the 
leaves, or extremities of the branches: lastly, others 
think that the same juice, as it is rarefied or condensed 
by heat or cold, rises and subsides in the same tube. I 
shall not take upon tne to decide this controversy. 
Only I cannot help observing, that the vulgar argument 
from analogy between plants and animals loseth much of 
its force, if it be considered, that the supposed circulating 
of the sap, from the root or lacteals through the arteries, 
and thence returning, by inosculations, through the 



sjris. 277 

veins or bark vessels to die root or lacteals again, is in no 
sort conformable or analogous to the circulation of the 
blood. 

35. It is sufficient to observe, what all must acknow- 
ledge, that a plant or tree is a very nice and compli- 
cated machine;* by the several, parts and motions 
whereof, the crude juices admitted through the absorb- 
ent vessels, whether of the root, trunk, or branches, are 
variously mixed, separated, altered, digested, and exalted, 
in a very wonderful manner. The juice, as it passeth in 
and out, up and down, through tubes of different tex- 
tures, shapes, and sizes, and is affected by the alternate 
compression and expansion of elastic vessels, by the 
vicissitudes of seasons, the changes of weather, and the 
various action of the solar light, grows still more and 
more elaborate. 

36. There is therefore no chemistry like that of 
nature, which addeth to the force of fire the most deli- 
cate, various, and artificial percolation.! The incessant 
action of the sun upon the elements of air, earth, and 
water, and on all sorts of mixed bodies, animal, vege- 
table, and fossil, is supposed to perform all sorts of che- 
mical operations. Whence it should follow, that the air 
contains all sorts of chemic productions, the vapours, 
fumes, oils, salts, and spirits, of all the bodies we know : 
from which general aggregate or mass, those that are 
proper being drawn in, through the fine vessels of the 
leaves, branches, and stem, of the tree, undergo, in its 
various organs, new alterations, secretions, and diges- 
tions, till such time as they assume the most elaborate 
form. 

37. Nor is it to be wondered, that the peculiar tex- 
ture of each plant or tree, co-operating with the solar 
fire and pre-existing juices, should so alter the fine nou- 
rishment drawn from earth and air,J as to produce va- 
rious specific qualities of great efficacy in medicine ; 

• Sect. SO, SI. t Sect. 29. * ' ■ t Sect S3. 



278 siris. 

especially if it be considered that in the opinion of 
learned men, there is an influence on plants derived 
from the sun, besides its mere heat. Certainly Dr. 
Grew, that curious anatomist of plants, holds the solar 
influence to differ from that of a mere culinary fire, 
otherwise than by being only a more temperate and 
equal heat. 

38. The alimentary juice taken into the lacteals, if 
I may so say, of vegetables, consists of oily, aqueous, 
and saline particles, which being dissolved, volatilized, 
and diversely agitated, part thereof is spent and exhaled 
into the air ; and that part which remains is by the 
economy of the plant, and action of the sun, strained, 
purified, concocted, and ripened, into an inspissated oil 
or balsam, and deposited in certain cells placed chiefly 
in the bark, which is thought to answer the panni cuius 
adiposus in animals, defending trees from the weather, 
and, when in sufficient quantity, rendering them ever- 
green. This balsam, weeping or sweating through the 
bark 9 hardens into resin ; and this most copiously in 
the several species of pines and firs, whose oil being in 
greater quantity, and more tenacious of the acid spirit 
or vegetable soul (as perhaps it may not improperly be 
called), abides the action of the sun, and attracting the 
sun-beams, is thereby exalted and enriched, so as to be- 
come a most noble medicine ; such is the last product 
of a tree, perfectly maturated by time and sun. 

39. It is remarked by Theophrastus, that all plants 
and trees while they put forth have most humour, but 
when they have ceased to germinate and bear, then the 
humour is strongest, and most sheweth the nature of 
the plant, and that, therefore, trees yielding resin 
should be cut after germination. It seems also very 
reasonable to suppose the juice of old trees, whose 
organs bring no new sap, should be better ripened than 
that of others. 

40. The aromatic flavours of vegetables seem to 



sibis. 27ft 

depend upon the sun's light as much as colours. As 
i« the production of the latter, the reflecting powers of 
the object, so in that of the former, the attractive and 
organical powers of the plant co-operate with the sun.* 
And as from Sir Isaac Newton's experiments it appears, 
that all colours are virtually in the white light of the 
sun, and shew themselves when the rays are separated 
by the attracting and repelling powers of objects, even 
so the specific qualities of the elaborate juices of plants 
seem to be virtually or eminently contained in the solar 
light, and are actually exhibited upon the separation of 
the rays, by the peculiar powers of the capillary organs 
in vegetables, attracting and imbibing certain rays, 
which produce certain flavours and qualities, in like 
manner as certain rays, being reflected, produce certain 
odours. 

41. It hath been observed by some curious' ana- 
tomists, that the secretory vessels in the glands of ani- 
mal bodies are lined with a fine down, which in differ- 
ent glands is of different colours. And it is thought, 
that each particular down, being originally imbued with 
its own proper juice, attracts none but that sort ; by 
which means so many various juices are secreted in dif- 
ferent parts of the body. And perhaps there may be 
something analogous to this, in the fine absorbent ves- 
sels of plants, which may co-operate towards producing 
that endless variety of juices, elaborated in plants from 
the same earth and air. 

42. The balsam or essential oil of vegetables con- 
tains a spirit, wherein consist the specific qualities, the 
smell and taste, of the plant. Boerhaave holds the na- 
tive presiding spirit to be neither oil, salt, earth, or 
water ; but somewhat too fine and subtile to be caught 
alone and rendered visible to the eye. This, when suf- 
fered to fly off, for instance, from the oil of rosemary, 
leaves it destitute of all flavour. This spark of life, this 

* Sect 36, 37. 



580 siris. 

spirit or soul, if we may so say, of the vegetable, departs 
without any sensible diminution of the oil or water 
wherein it was lodged. 

43. It should seem that the forms, souls, or prin- 
ciples, of vegetable life, subsist in the light or solar 
emanation,* which in respect of the macrocosm is what 
the animal spirit is to the microcosm ; the interior tegu- 
ment, the subtile instrument and vehicle of power. No 
wonder then that the ens primum or scintilla spirituoea, 
as it is called, of plants, should be a thing so fine and fu- 
gacious as to escape our nicest search. It is evident that 
nature at the suns approach vegetates ; and languishes 
at his recess ; this terrestrial globe seeming only a ma- 
trix disposed and prepared to receive life from his light ; 
whence Homer in his hymns styleth earth the wife of 

heaven, aXofc ovpavov dcrpoEvroc. 

44. The luminous spirit which is the form or life of 
a plant, from whence its differences and properties flow, 
is somewhat extremely volatile. It is not the oil, but 
a thing more subtile whereof oil is the vehicle, which 
retains it from flying off, and is lodged in several parts 
of the plant, particularly in the cells of the bark and in 
the seeds. This oil, purified and exalted by the organi- 
cal powers of the plant, and agitated by warmth, be- 
comes a proper receptacle of the spirit ; part of which 
spirit exhales through the leaves and flowers, and part 
is arrested by this unctuous humour that detains it in 
the plant. It is to be noted this essential oil animated, 
as one may say, with the flavour of the plant, is very 
different from any spirit that can be procured from the 
same plant by fermentation. 

45. Light impregnates air,t air impregnates vapour; 
and this becomes a watery juice by distillation having 
risen first in the cold still with a kindly gentle heat. 
This fragrant vegetable water is possessed of the specific 
odour and taste of the plant. It is remarked that dis- 

* Sect. 40. t Sect 37. 43. 



8IBIS. 281 

tilled oils added to water for counterfeiting the vegetable 
•water can never equal it, artificial chemistry falling short 
of the natural. 

46. The less violence is used to nature the better 
.its produce. The juice of olives or grapes issuing by 
the lightest pressure is best. Resins that drop from the 
branches spontaneously, or ooze upon the slightest in- 
cision, are the finest and mdst fragrant. And infusions 
are observed to act more strongly than decoctions of 
plants, the more subtile and volatile salts and spirits, 
.which might be lost or corrupted by the latter, being 
obtained in their natural state by the former. It is 
also observed that the finest,, purest, and most vola- 
tile part, is that which first ascends in distillation. 
.And, indeed, it should seem the lightest and most active 
particles required least force to disengage them from the 
subject. 

47. The salts, therefore, and more active spirits of 
the tar, are got by infusion in cold water : but the resin- 
ous part is not to be dissolved thereby.* Hence the 
prejudice which some perhaps may entertain against 
tar water as a medicine, the use whereof might inflame 
the blood by its sulphur and resin, appears to be not 
.well grounded ; it being indeed impregnated with a fine 
acid spirit, balsamic, cooling, diuretic, and possessed of 
many other virtues.f Spirits are supposed to consist of 
salts and phlegm, probably too somewhat of a fine oily 
nature, differing from oil in that it mixeth with water, 
and agreeing with oil in that it runneth in rivulets by 
distillation. Thus much is allowed, that the water, 
.earth, and fixed salt, are the same in all plants ; that, 
therefore, which differenceth a plant or makes it what 
it is, the native spark or form, in the language of the 
chemists or. schools, is none of those things, nor yet the 
finest oil, which seemeth only its receptacle or vehicle. 
It is observed by chemists, that all sorts of balsamic 

• Sect. 7. f Sect 42. 44. 

VOL. III. u 



282 SIMS. 

wood afford an acid spirit, which is the volatile oily salt 
of the vegetable: herein are chiefly contained their 
medicinal virtues, and by the trials I have made, it ap- 
pear^ that the acid spirit in tar water possesseth the 
virtues, in an eminent degree, of that of guaiacum, and 
other medicinal woods. 

48. Qualities in a degree too strong for human na- 
ture to subdue, and assimilate to itself, must hurt the 
constitution. All acids, therefore, may not be useful or 
innocent. But this seemeth an acid so thoroughly 
concocted, so gentle, bland, and temperate, and withal 
a spirit so fine and volatile, as readily to enter the small- 
est vessels, and be assimilated with the utmost ease. 

49. If any one were minded to dissolve some of the 
resin, together with the salt or spirit, he need only mix 
some spirit of wine with the water. But such an entire 
solution of resins and gums, as to qualify them for 
entering and pervading the animal system, like the fine 
acid spirit that first flies off from the subject, is perhaps 
impossible to obtain. It is an apothegm of the die- 
mists, derived from Helmont, that whoever can make 
myrrh soluble by the human body, has the secret of 
prolonging his days : -and Boerhaave owns that there 
seems to be truth in this, from its resisting putrefaction. 
Now this quality is as remarkable in tar, with which 
the ancients embalmed and preserved dead bodies. And 
though Boerhaave himself, and other chemists before 
him, have given methods for making solutions of myrrh, 
yet it is by means of alcohol which extracts only the in- 
flammable parts. And it doth not seem that any solu- 
tion of myrrh is impregnated with its salt or acid spirit. 
It may not, therefore, seem strange if this water should 
be found more beneficial for procuring health and long 
life, than any solution of myrrh whatsoever. 

50. Certainly divers resins and gums may have vir- 
tues, and yet not be able for their grossness to pass the 
lacteals and other finer vessels, nor yet, perhaps, readily 



siars. 2891 

impart those virtues to a menstruum, that may with 
safety and speed convey them throughout the human 
body. Upon all which accounts, I believe tar water will 
be found to have singular advantages. It is observed 
that acid spirits prove the stronger, by how much the 
greater degree of heat is required to raise them. And 
indeed there seemeth to be no acid more gentlethan 
this, obtained by the simple affusion of cold water ; 
which carries off from the subject the most light and 
subtile parts, and, if one may so speak, the very flower 
of the specific qualities. And here it is to be noted, 
that the volatile salt and spirit of vegetables do, by 
gently stimulating the solids, attenuate the fluids con- 
tained in them, and promote secretions, and that they 
are penetrating and active, contrary to the general na- 
ture of other acids. 

51. It is a great maxim for health, that the juices 
of the body be kept fluid in a due proportion. There- 
fore the acid volatile spirit in tar water, at once atte» 
nuating and cooling in a moderate degree, must great- 
ly conduce to health, as a mild salutary deobstruent, 
quickening the circulation of the fluids without wound- 
ingthesolids, thereby gen tlyremovingorpreventingthose 
obstructions which are the great and general cause of 
most chronical diseases ; in this manner answering to 
the antihysterics, asafoetida, galbanum, myrrh, amber, 
and in general, to all the resins and gums of trees or 
shrubs useful in nervous cases. 

52. Warm water is itself a deobstruent. Therefore 
the infusion of tar drunk warm is easier insinuated into 
all the nice capillary vessels, and acts not only by vir- 
tue of the balsam but also by that of the vehicle. Its 
taste, its diuretic quality, its being so great a cordial, 
Shew the activity of this medicine. And at the same 
time that it quickens the sluggish blood of the hysteri- 
cal, its balsamic oily nature abates the too rapid motion 
of the sharp thin blood in those who are hectic. There 

u 2 



284 siris. 

is a lentor and smoothness in the blood for healthy 
strong people, on the contrary, there is often an acri- 
mony and solution in that of weakly morbid persons* 
The fine particles of tar are not only warm and active, 
they are also balsamic and emollient, softening and en- 
riching, the sharp and vapid blood, and healing the 
erosions occasioned thereby in the blood vessels and 
glands. 

53. Tar water possesseth the stomachic and cardiac 
qualities of elixir proprietatis, Stoughton's drops, and 
many such tinctures and extracts, Math this difference, 
that it worketh its effect more safely, as it hath nothing 
of that spirit of wine, which, however mixed and dis- 
guised, may yet be well accounted a poison in some 
degree, 

54. Such medicines are supposed to be diaphoretic, 
which, being of an active and subtile nature, pass 
through the whole system, and work their effect in the 
finest capillaries and perspiratory ducts, which they 
gently cleanse and open. Tar water is extremely well 
fitted to work by such an insensible diaphoresis, by the 
fineness and activity of its acid volatile spirit And 
surely those parts ought to be very fine, which can scour 
the perspiratory ducts, under the scarf skin or cuticle, 
if it be true, that one grain of sand would cover the 

V mouths of more than a hundred thousand. 

55. Another way wherein tar water operates, is by 
urine, than which perhaps none is more safe and effec- 
tual, for cleansing the blood and carrying off its salts. 
But it seems to produce its principal effect as an alter- 
ative, sure and easy, much safer than those vehement, 
purgative, emetic, and salivating medicines, which do 
violence to nature. 

56. An obstruction of some vessels causeth the 
blood to move more swiftly in other vessels which are 
not obstructed. Hence manifold disorders. A liquor 
that dilutes and attenuates resolves the concretions 



SIRIS. 205 

which obstruct. Tar water is such a liquor. It may be 
said, indeed, of common water, that it attenuates, also 
of mercurial preparations that they attenuate. But 'it 
should be considered, that mere water only distends the 
vessels and thereby weakens their tone ; and that merf 
cury by its great momentum may justly be suspected of 
hurting the fine capillaries, which two deobstruents 
therefore might easily overact their parts, and (by less- 
ening .the force of the elastic vessels) remotely produce 
those concretions they are intended to remove. 

57. Weak and rigid fibres are looked on by the 
most able physicians, as sources of two different classes 
of distempers : a sluggish motion of the. liquids occasions 
weak fibres : therefore tar water is good to strengthen 
them as it gently accelerates their contents. On the 
other hand, being an unctuous bland fluid, it moistens 
and softens the dry and stiff fibres : and so proves a 
remedy for both extremes. 

58. Common soaps are compositions of lixivial salt 
and oil. The corrosive acrimony of the saline parti- 
cles, being softened by the mixture of an unctuous sub- 
stance, they insinuate themselves into the small ducts 
with less difficulty and danger. Hie combination of 
these different substances makes up a very subtile and 
active medicine, fitted for mixing with all humours, 
and resolving all obstructions. Soap therefore is justly 
esteemed a most efficacious medicine in many distem- 
pers. Alcaline soap is allowed to be cleansing, attenu- 
ating, opening, resolving, sweetening; it is pectoral, 
vulnerary, diuretic, and hath other good qualities which 
are also to be found in tar water. It is granted, that 
oil and acid salts combined together exist in vegetables, 
and that consequently there are acid soaps as well as 
alcaline. And the saponaceous nature of the acid vege- 
table spirits, is what renders them so diuretic, sudorific, 
penetrating, abstersive, and resolving. Such, for in- 
stance, is the acid spirit of guaicum. And all these same 



286 81*18. 

virtues teem to be in tar water in a mild and safnteiy 
degree. 

59. It is the general opinion that all acids coagulate 
the blood. Boerhaave excepts vmfcgar, which he "holds 
to be a soap, inasmuch as it is found to contain an oH 
as well as an acid spirit Hence it is both unctuous 
and penetrating, a powerful antiphlogistic, and preserv- 
ative against corruption and infection. Now it seems 
evident that tar water is a soap as well as vinegar. Fbr 
though it be a character of resin, which is an inspis- 
sated gross oil, not to dissolve in water * yet the salts 
attract some fine particles of essential oil : which fine 
oil serves as a vehicle for the acid salts, and shews itself 
in the colour of the tar water : for all pure salts are co- 
lourless. And though the resin will not dissolve ra 
water, yet the subtile oil, in which the vegetable salts 
are lodged, may as well mix with water as vinegar doth, 
which contains both oil and salt. And as the oil in tar 
water discovers itself to the eye, so the add salts do 
manifest themselves to the taste. Tar water therefore 
is a soap, and as such hath the medicinal qualities of 
soap. 

60. It operates more gently as the acid salts lose 
their acrimony being sheathed in oil, and thereby ap- 
proaching the nature of neutral salts, are more benign 
and friendly to the animal system : and more effectu- 
ally, as by the help of a volatile, smooth, insinuating 
oil, those same salts are more easily introduced into the 
capillary ducts. Therefore in fevers and epedemical dis- 
tempers it is (and I have found it so), as well as in chro- 
nical diseases, a most safe and efficacious medicine, being 
good against too great fluidity as a balsamic, and good 
against vicidity as a soap. There is something in the 
fiery corrosive nature of lixivial salts, which makes al- 
kaline soap a dangerous remedy in all cases where an in- 
flammation is apprehended. And as inflammations are 

• Sect. 47. 



suus. 287 

oftajoeoMtoaed by obstructions, it should seem an add 
soap was ouch the safer deobstruent. 

61. Even the best turpentines, however famous for 
their vulnerary and detergent qualities, have yet been 
observed by their warmth to dispose to inflammatory 
tumours. But the acid spirit* being in so great propor- 
tion in tar water, renders it. a cooler and safer medicine. 
And the ethereal oil of turpentine, though an admira- 
ble dryer, healer, and anodyne, when outwardly applied 
to wounds and ulcers, and not less useful in cleansing 
the urinary passages and healing their ulcerations, yet 
is known to be of a nature so very relaxing as some- 
times to do much mischief when taken inwardly. Tar 
water is not attended with the same ill effects, which I 
believe are owing in a great measure to the ethereal oils 
being deprived of the acid spirit in distillation, which 
vellicating and contracting as a stimulus might have 
proved a counterpoise to the excessive lubricating and 
relaxing qualities of the oil. 

62. Woods in decoction do not seem to yield so 
ripe and elaborate a juice, as that which is deposited in 
the cells or loculi terebintfuaci, and spontaneously oozes 
from them. And indeed though the balsam of Peru 
obtained by boiling wood and scumming the decoction* 
be a very valuable medicine and of great account in di- 
vers cases, particularly asthmas, nephritic pains, nervous 
cholics, and obstructions, yet I do verily think (and I do 
not say this without experience) that tar water is a more 
efficacious remedy in all those cases than even that 
costly drug. 

63. It hath been already observed that the restora- 
tive pectoral antihysterical virtues of the most precious 
balsams and gums are possessed in a high degree by tar 
water, f And I do not know any purpose answered by 
the wood drinks, for which tar water may not be used 
with at least equal success. It contains the virtues even 

• Sect. 7, 8. f Sect. 9. 2i, 22, 23. 



288 siris. 

of guaicum, which seems the most efficacious of- all 
woods, warming and sweetening the humours, diapho- 
retic and useful in gouts, dropsies, and rheums, as well 
as in the foul disease. Nor should it seem strange, if 
the virtues obtained by boiling an old dry wood prove 
inferior to those extracted from a balsam. 

64. There is a fine volatile spirit in the waters of 
Geronster, the most esteemed of all the fountains about 
the Spa, but whose waters do not bear transporting. 
The stomachic^ cardiac, and diuretic qualities of this 
fountain somewhat resemble those of tar water, which, 
if I am not greatly mistaken, contains the virtues of the 
best chalybeat and sulphureous waters ; with this differ- 
ence, that those waters are apt to affect the head in 
taking, which tar water is not. Besides, there is a 
regimen of diet to be observed, especially with chaly- 
beat waters, which I never found necessary with this. 
Tar water layeth under no restraint either as to diet, 
hours, or employment. A man may study or exercise 
or repose, keep his own hours, pass his time either 
within or without, and take wholesome nourishment of 
any kind. 

65. The use of mineral waters, however excellent 
for the nerves and stomach, is often suspended by colds 
and inflammatory disorders ; in which they are acknow- 
ledged to be very dangerous : whereas tar water is so far 
from hurting in those cases, or being discontinued on 
that account, that it greatly contributes to their cure.* 

66. Cordials, vulgarly so called, act immediately on 
the stomach, and by consent of nerves on the head. 
But medicines of an operation too fine and light to pro- 
duce a sensible effect in the prima vi&, may, neverthe- 
less, in their passage through the capillaries, operate 
on the sides of those small vessels, in such manner as to 
quicken their oscillations, and consequently the motion 
of their contents, producing, in issue and effect, all the 

* Sect. 7. 



siris. 289* 

benefits of a cordial much more lasting and salutary 
than those of distilled spirits, which by their caustic and 
coagulating qualities do incomparably more mischief 
than good. Such a cardiac medicine is tar water. The 
transient fits of mirth, produced from fermented liquors, 
and distilled spirits, are attended with proportionable 
depression of spirit in their intervals. But the calm' 
cheerfulness arising from this water of health (as it may 
be justly called) is permanent. In which it emulates 
the virtues of that famous plant Gen Seng, so much 
valued in China as the only cordial that raises the spirits 
without depressing them. Tar water is so, far from 
hurting the nerves, as common cordials do, that it is 
highly useful in cramps, spasms of the viscera, and pa- 
ralytic numbness. 

67 • Emetics are on certain occasions administered 
with great success. But the overstraining and weaken- 
ing of nature may be very justly apprehended from a 
course of emetics. They- are nevertheless prescribed 
and substituted for exercise. But it is well remarked in 
Plato's Timaeus that vomits and purges are the worst 
exercise in the world. There is something in the mild 
operation of tar water, that seems more friendly to the 
economy, and forwards the digestions and secretions in 
a way more natural and benign, the mildness of this 
medicine being such that I have known children take it, 
for above six months together, with great benefit, and 
without any inconvenience: and, after long and repeated 
experience, I do esteem it a most excellent diet-drink, 
fitted to all seasons and ages. 

68. -It is I think allowed that the origin of the gout 
lies in a faulty digestion. And it is remarked by the 
ablest physicians, that the gout is so difficult to cure, 
because heating medicines aggravate its immediate, and 
cooling its remote cause. But tar water, although it 
contains active principles that strengthen the digestion 
beyond any thing I know, and consequently must be 



190 siris. 

highly useful, either to prevent or lessen the following 
fit, or by invigorating the blood to cast it upon the ex- 
tremities, yet it is not of so heating a nature as to do 
harm even in the fit. Nothing is more difficult or dis- 
agreeable than to argue men out of their prejudices* I 
shall not therefore enter into controversies on this sub- 
ject, but if men dispute and object, shall leave the deci- 
sion to time and trial. 

69. In the modern practice, soap, opium, and mer- 
cury, bid fairest for universal medicines. The first of 
these is highly spoken of. But then those who magnify 
it most, except against the use of it in such cases where 
the obstruction is attended with a putrefactive 'alkali, or 
where an inflammatory disposition appears. It is ac- 
knowledged to be very dangerous in a pthims, fever, 
and some other cases, in which tar water is i^ot only safe 
but useful. 

70. Opium though a medicine of great extent and 
efficacy, yet is frequently known to produce grievous 
disorders in hysterical or hypochondriacal persons, who 
make a great part, perhaps the greatest, of those who 
lead sedentary lives in these islands. Besides, upon. all 
constitutions dangerous errors may be committed in the 
use of opium. 

7 1 . Mercury hath of late years become a medicine 
of very general use. The extreme minuteness, mobility, 
and momentum, of its parts, rendering it a most power- 
ful cleanser of all obstructions, even in the most minute 
capillaries. But then we should be cautious in the use 
of it, if we consider, that the very thing which gives it 
power of doing good above other deobstruents, doth 
also dispose it to do mischief. I mean its great mo- 
mentum, the weight of it being about ten times that of 
blood, and the momentum being the joint product of 
the weight and velocity, it must needs operate with 
great force; and may it not be justly feared, that so 
great a force entering the minutest vessels, and breaking 



siftts. 281 

the abstracted matter, might /also break or wound the 
fine tender coats of those small vessels, and so bring on 
the untimely effects of old age, producing more, per* 
haps, and worse obstructions than those it removed i 
Similar consequences may justly be apprehended from 
other mineral $nd pondetous medicines. Therefore, 
upon the whole, there will not perhaps be found any 
medicine more general in its use, or more salutary in its 
effects, than tar water. 

72. To suppose that all distempers arising from very 
dtffere&t and it may be from contrary causes, can be 
cured by one and the same medicine, must seem chime- 
rical. But it may with truth be affirmed, that the 
virtue of tar water extends to a surprising variety of 
cases very distant and unlike.* This I have experienced 
in my neighbours, my family, and myself. And as I 
live in a remote corner among poor neighbours, who for 
want of a regular physician have often recourse to me, 
I have had frequent opportunities of trial, which con- 
vince me it is of so just a temperament as to be an ene- 
my to all extremes. I have kftown it do great good in 
a cold watery constitution, as a cardiac and stomachic : 
and at the same time allay heat and feverish thirst in 
another. I have known it correct costive habits in some, 
and the -contrary habit in others. Nor will this seem 
incredible if it be considered that middle qualities natu- 
rally reduce the extreme. Warm water, for instance, 
mixed with hot and cold will lessen the heat in that, and 
the cold in this. 

73. They who know the great virtues of common 
soap, whose coarse lixivial salts are the product of culi- 
nary fire, will not think it incredible, that virtues of 
mighty force and extent should be found in a fine acid 
soap,f the salts and oil whereof are a most elaborate 
product of nature and the solar light. 

74. It is certain tar water warms, and therefore 

* Sect. 3, 4, 5, 6. 21, Ac. + Sect. 58. 



202 siris. 

some may perhaps still think it cannot cool. The more 
effectually to remove this prejudice, let it be farther 
considered, that, as on the one hand, opposite causes do 
sometimes produce the same effect, for instance, heat 
by rarefaction and cold by condensation do both increase 
the air's elasticity: so on the other hand, the same 
cause shall sometimes produce opposite effects: hept 
for instance thins, and again heat coagulates the blood. 
It is not therefore strange, that tar water should warm 
one habit and cool another, have one good effect on a 
cold constitution, and another good effect on an inflamed 
one ; nor, if this be so, that it should cure opposite 
disorders. All which justifies to reason, what I have 
often found true in fact. The salts, the spirits, the 
heat of tar water, are of a temperature congenial to the 
constitution of a man which receives from it a kindly 
warmth, but no inflaming heat. It was remarkable that 
two children in my neighbourhood, being in a course of 
tar water, upon an intermission of it, never failed to 
have their issues inflamed by a humour much more 
hot and sharp than at other times. But its great use in 
the small-pox, pleurisies, and fevers, is a sufficient proof 
that tar water is not of an inflaming nature. 

75. I have dwelt the longer on this head, because 
some gentlemen of the faculty have thought fit to de- 
clare that tar water must inflame, and that they would 
never visit any patient in a fever who had been a drinker 
of it. But I will venture to affirm, that it is so far 
from increasing a feverish inflammation, that it is on 
the contrary a most ready means to allay and extinguish 
it. It is of admirable use in fevers, being at the same 
time the surest, safest, and most effectual, both paregoric 
and cordial ; for the truth of which I appeal to any 
person's experience, who shall take a large draught of 
it milk warm in the paroxysm of a fever, even when 
plain water or herb teas shall be found to have little 
or no effect. To me it seems that its singular and sur- 



sous. 203 

prising use in fevers of all kinds, were there nothing 
else, would be alone sufficient to recommend it to the 
public. 

76. The best physicians make the idea of a fever 
to consist in a too great velocity of the heart's motkrti, 
and too great resistance at the capillaries. Tar water, 
as it softens and gently stimulates those nice vessels, 
helps to propel their contents, and so contributes to 
remove the latter part of the disorder. And for the 
former, the irritating acrimony which accelerates the 
motion of the heart is diluted by watery, corrected by 
acid, and softened by balsamic remedies, all which in- 
tentions are answered by this aqueous, acid, balsamic 
medicine. Besides, the viscid juices coagulated by the 
febrile heat are resolved by tar water as a soap, and not 
too far resolved, as it is a gentle acid soap ; to which we 
may add, that the peccant humours and salts are carried 
off by its diaphoretic and diuretic qualities. 

77* I found all this confirmed by my own expe- 
rience in the late sickly season of the year one thousand 
seven hundred and forty-one, having had twenty-five 
fevers in my own family cured by this medicinal water, 
drunk copiously. The same method was practised on 
several of my poor neighbours, with equal success. It 
suddenly calmed the feverish anxieties, and seemed 
every glass to refresh, and itifuse life and spirit into the 
patient. At first some of those patients had been vo- 
mited, but afterwards I found that without vomiting, 
bleeding, blistering, or any other evacuation or medicine 
whatever, very bad fevers could be cured by the sole 
drinking of tar water milk warm, and in good quantity, 
perhaps a large glass every hour or oftener taken in bed. 
And it was remarkable, that such as were cured by this 
comfortable cordial, recovered health and spirits at once, 
while those who had been cured by evacuations often 
languished long, even after the fever had left them, 



304 SIMS. 

before they could recover of their medicines and regain 
their strength. 

78. In peripneumonies and pleurisies I have ob- 
served tar water to be excellent, having known some 
pleuritic persons cured without bleeding, by a blister 
early applied to the stitch, and the copious drinking of 
tar water, four or five quarts, or even more m four^and* 
twenty hours. And I do recommend it to farther trial, 
whether in all cases of a pleurisy, one moderate Meed* 
ing, a blister on the spot, and plenty of tepid tar water, 
may not suffice, without those repeated and immode- 
rate bleedings, the bad effects of which are perhaps 
never got over. I do even suspect that a pleuritic patient 
betaking himself to bed betimes, and drinking very 
copiously of tar water, may be cured by that alone with* 
out bleeding, blistering, or any other medicine what- 
soever, certainly I have found this succeed at a glass 
every half hour. 

79* I have known a bloody flux of long continu- 
ance, after divers medicines had been tried in vain, 
cured by tar water. But that which I take to be the 
most speedy and effectual remedy in a bloody flux, is a 
clyster of an ounce of common brown resin dissolved 
over a fire in two ounces of oil, and added to a pint of 
broth, which not long since I had frequent occasion of 
trying when that distemper was epidemical. Nor can I 
say that any to whom I advised it miscarried. This expe- 
riment I was led to make by the opinion I had of tar as 
a balsamic : and resin is only tar inspissated. 

80. Nothing that I know corroborates the stomach 
so much as tar water.* Whence it follows, that it must 
be of singular use to persons afflicted with the gout. 
And from what I have observed in five or six instances, 
I do verily believe it the best and safest medicine either 
to prevent the gout, or so to strengthen nature against 

* Sect. 68. 



siaie. Stf 

the fit, as to drive it from the vitals. Dr. Sydenham, 
in his treatise of the Gout, declares, that whoever finds 
a medicine the most efficacious for strengthening di- 
gestion, will do more service in the . cure of that and 
other chronical distempers, than he can even form a 
notion of. And I leave it to trial, whether tar water be 
not that medicine, as I myself am persuaded it is, by all 
the experiments I could make. But in all trials I would 
recommend discretion ; for instance, a man with the 
gout in his stomach ought not to drink cold tar 
water. This essay leaves room for future experiment 
in every part of it, not pretending to be a complete 
treatise. 

81. It is evident to sense, that blood, urine, and 
other animal juices, being let to stand, soon contract a 
great acrimony. Juices, therefore, from a bad digestion 
retained and stagnating in the body, grow sharp and pu- 
trid. Hence a fermenting heat, the immediate cause of 
the gout. The curing this by cooling medicines, a&they 
would increase the antecedent cause, must be a vain at- 
tempt. On the other hand, spices and spirituous liquora, 
while they contribute to remove the antecedent cause, or 
bad digestion, would by inflaming the blood increase the 
proximate or immediate cause of the gout, to wit, the 
fermenting heat. The scope therefore must be, to find 
a medicine that shall corroborate, but not inflame. Bit- 
ter herbs are recommended ; but they are weak in con* 
parison of tar water. 

82. The great force of tar water, to correct the acri- 
mony of the blood, appears in nothing more than in the 
cure of a gangrene, from an internal cause ; which was 
performed on a servant of my own, by prescribing the 
copious and constant use of tar water for a few weeks. 
From my representing tar water as good for so many 
things, some perhaps may conclude it is good for no- 
thing. But charity obiigeth me to say what I know, 
and what I think, howsoever it may be taken. Men 



.200 siius. 

may censure and -object as they please, but I appeal to 
time and experiment. Effects misimputed, cases wrong 
told, circumstances overlooked, perhaps too prejudices 
and partialities against truth, may for a time prevail and 
keep her at the bottom of her well, "from whence never- 
theless she emergeth sooner or latter, and strikes the 
eyes of all those who do not keep them shut. 

83. Boerhaave thinks a specific may be found for 
that peculiar venom which infects the blood in the 
smalUpox, and that the prospect of so great a public 
benefit should stir up men to search for it. Its won- 
derful success in preventing and mitigating that distem- 
per,* would incline one to suspect that tar water is such 
a specific, especially since I have found it of sovereign 
use as well during the small-pox as before it Some 
think an erysipelas and the plague differ only in de- 
gree. If so, tar water should be useful in the plague, 
for I have known it cure an erysipelas. 

84. Tar water, as cleansing, healing, and balsamic, 
is good in all disorders of the urinary passages, whether 
obstructed or ulcerated. Dr. Lister supposeth, indeed, 
that turpentines act by a caustic quality, which irritates 
the coats of the urinary ducts to expel sand or gravel. 
But it should seem this expelling diuretic virtue, con- 
sisted rather in the salts than the resin, and consequent- 
ly resides in the tar water, gently stimulating by its 
salts, without the dangerous force of a caustic. The 
violent operation of ipecacuanha lies in its resin, but the 
saline extract is a gentle purge and diuretic, by the sti- 
mulus of its salts. 

85. That which acts as a mild cordial/f* neither 
hurting the capillary vessels as a caustic, nor affecting 
the nerves, nor coagulating the juices, must in all cases 
be a friend to nature, and assist the vis vitcc in its strug- 
gle against all kinds of contagion. And from what I 
have observed, tar water appears to me a useful preserv- 

• Sect. 2, 3. f Sect - 66 * 



siris. 297 

ative io all epidemical disorders, and against all other 
infection whatsoever, as well as that of the small-pox. 
What effects the ammi pathemaia have in human mala- 
dies, is well known, and consequently the general bene- 
fit of such a cardiac may be reasonably supposed. 

86. As the body is said to clothe the soul, so the 
nerves may be said to constitute her inner garment. 
And as the soul animates the whole, what nearly 'touches 
the soul relates to all* Therefore the asperity of tartar- 
ous salts, and the fiery acrimony of alkaline salts, irri- 
tating and wounding the nerves, produce nascent pas- 
sions and anxieties in the soul ; which both aggravate 
distempers, and render men's lives restless and wretched, 
even when they are afflicted with no apparent distemper. 
This is the latent spring of much woe, spleen, and te- 
dium viUe. Small imperceptible irritations of the minu- 
test fibres or filaments, caused by the pungent salts of 
wines and sauces, do so shake and disturb the micro- 
cosms of high livers, as often to raise tempests in courts 
and senates. Whereas the gentle vibrations that are 
raised in the nerves, by a fine subtile acid, sheathed in 
a smooth volatile oil,* softly stimulating and bracing 
the nervous vessels and fibres, promote a due circula- 
tion and secretion of the animal juices, and create a 
calm satisfied sense of health. And accordingly I have 
often known tar water to procure sleep and compose the 
spirits in cruel vigils, occasioned either by sickness or by 
too intense application of mind. 

87* In diseases sometimes accidents happen from 
without by mismanagement, sometimes latent causes 
operate within, jointly with the specific taint or peculiar 
cause of the malady. The causes of distempers are often 
complicated, and there may be something in the idiosyn- 
crasy of the patient that puzzles the physician. It may 
therefore be presumed that no medicine is infallible, 

♦Sect. 59, 61. 

VOL. }II. x 



399 aiaia* 

not even in any one disorder. But as tar water poasesft- 
efch the virtues of fortifying the stomach, as well m 
purifying and invigorating the blood, beyond any medi- 
cine that I know, it may be presumed of great and gene* 
ral efficacy in all those numerous illnesses, which take 
their rise from foul or vapid blood, or from a bad diges- 
tion. The animal spirits are elaborated from the blood. 
Such therefore as the blood is, such will be the animal 
spirits, more or less, weaker or stronger. This sheweth 
the usefulness of tar water in all hysteric and hypochon- 
driac cases : which, together with the maladies from in- 
digestion, comprise almost the whole tribe of chronical 



88. The scurvy may be reckoned in these 
a universal malady, as people in general are subject to 
it, and as it mixes more or less in almost all diseases. 
Whether this proceeds from want of elasticity in our 
air, upon which the tone of the vessels depends, and 
upon that the several secretions ; or whether it proceeds 
from the moisture of our climate, or the grossness of 
our food, or the salts in our atmosphere, or from all 
these together ; thus much at least seems not absurd 
to suppose, that as physicians in Spain and Italy are apt 
to suspect the venereal taint to be a latent principle, and 
bear a part in every illness, so far, as good reason, the 
scurvy should be considered by our physicians as having 
some share in most disorders and constitutions that fall 
in their way. It is certain our perspiration is not so free 
as in clearer air and warmer climates. Perspirable hu- 
mours not discharged will stagnate and putrefy. A diet 
of animal food will be apt to render the juices of our bo- 
dies alcalescent. Hence ichorous and corrosive hu- 
mours and many disorders. Most air makes viscid 
blood ; and saline air inflames this viscid blood. Hence 
broken capillaries, extravasated blood, spots and ulcers,, 
and other scorbutic symptoms. The body of a man at- 
tracts and imbibes the moisture and salts of the air, and 



8IBI& SOD 

Whatever floats in the atmosphere, which as it is com- 
toon ft> all. so it affects all more or less. 

89. Doctor Musgrave thinks the Devonshire scurvy 
a relic of the leprosy, and that it is not owing to the 
qualities of the air. But as these insulars in general 
live in a gross saline air, and their vessels being less 
elastic are consequently less able to subdue and cast off 
what their bodies as sponges draw in, one would be 
tempted to suspect the air not a little concerned, especi- 
ally in such a situation as that of Devonshire. In all 
these British islands we enjoy a great mediocrity of cli- 
mate, the effect whereof is, that we have neither heat 
enough to exalt and dissipate the gross vapours, as in 
Italy ; nor cold enough to condense and precipitate 
them, as in Sweden. So they are left floating in die air, 
which we constantly breathe, and imbibe through the 
whole surface of our bodies. And this, together with 
exhalations from coal fires, and the various fossils where- 
in we abound, doth greatly contribute to render us scor- 
butic and hypochondriac. 

90. There are some who derive all diseases from the 
scurvy, which indeed must be allowed to create or mi- 
mic most other maladies. Boerhaave tells us, it pro- 
duceth pleuritic, cholie, nephritic, hepatic pains, various 
fevers, hot, malignant, intermitting dysenteries, faint- 
kigs, anxieties, dropsies, consumptions, convulsions, pal- 
ms, fluxes of Wood. In a word, it may be said to con- 
tain the seeds and origin of almost all distempers. In- 
somuch that a medicine which cures all sortB of scurvy, 
may be presumed good for most maladies. 

91. The scurvy doth not only in variety of symp- 
toms imitate most distempers, but also when come to' 
a height, in degree of virulence equal the most ma- 
lignant. Of this we have a remarkable proof, in that 
horrible description of the scorbutic patients in the hos- 
pitals of Paris, given by Monsieur Poupart, in the Me- - 

moirs of the Royal Academy of Sciences, for the year 

x2 



• 300 siris. 

1699. That author thinks he saw some resemblance 
in it to the plague of Athens. It is hard to imagine 
any thing more dreadful than the case of those men, 
rotting alive by the scurvy in its supreme degree. To 
obviate such putrefaction, I believe the most effectual 
method would be, to embalm (if one may so say) the 
living body with tar water copiously drunk; and this 
belief is not without experience. 

92. It is the received opinion that the. animal salts 
of a sound body are of a neutral, bland, and benign na- 
ture : that is, the salts in the juices past the prima via 
are neither acid or alkaline, having been subdued by the 
constitution, and changed into a third nature. Where 
the constitution wants force to do this, the aliment is 
not duly assimilated ; and so far as the salts retain their 
pristine qualities, sickly symptoms ensue, acids and al- 
kalies not perfectly subdued producing weak ferments 
in the juices. Hence scurvy, cachexy, and a long train 
of ills. 

93. A cachexy or ill habit is much of the same kind 
with the scurvy, proceeds from the same causes, and is 
attended with like symptoms, which are so manifold 
and various, that the scurvy may well be looked on as 
a general cachexy, infecting the whole and vitiating all 
the digestions. Some have reckoned as many sorts of ' 
the scurvy as there are taints of the blood. Others have 
supposed it a collection of all illnesses together. Some 
suppose it an accumulation of several diseases injieru 
Others take it for an assemblage of the relics of old 
distempers. 

94. But thus much is certain, the cure of the scur- 
vy is no more to be attempted by strongly active medi- 
cines, than (to use the similitude of an ingenious writer) 
a thorn in the flesh, or pitch on silk, to be removed 
by force. The viscid humour must be gently resolved 
and diluted, the tone of the vessels recovered by a mo- 
derate stimulation, and the tender fibres. and capil- 



SIBIS. 30 1. 

laiy vessels gradually cleared from the concreted stuff 
that adheres and obstructs them. All which is in the 
aptest manner performed by a watery diluent, contain- 
ing a fine vegetable soap. And although a complete 
cure by alteratives, operating on the small capillaries, 
and by insensible discharges, must require length of 
time, yet the good effect of this medicine on cachectic 
and scorbutic persons, is soon perceived, by the change 
it produceth in their pale discoloured looks, giving, a 
florid healthy countenance in less time than perhaps any 
other medicine. 

95. It is supposed by physicians, that the immediate 
cause of the scurvy lies in the blood, the fibrous part of 
which is too thick and the serum too thin and sharp : 
and that whence ariseth the great difficulty in the cure, 
because in the correcting of one part, regard must be 
had to the other. It is well known, how extremely dif- 
ficult it is to cure an inveterate scurvy : how many scor- 
butic patients have grown worse by an injudicious 
course of evacuations : how many are even rendered in- 
curable by the treatment of inconsiderate physicians:, 
and how difficult, tedious, and uncertain, the cure is in 
the hands even of the best, who are obliged to use such 
variety and change of medicines, in the different stages, 
of that malady : which nevertheless may be cured (if I 
may judge by what I have experienced) by the sole, re- 
gular, constant, copious use of tar water. 

96. Tar water moderately inspissates with its bal- 
samic virtue, and renders mild the thin and sharp part • 
of the blood, the same as a soapy medicine dissolves the. 
grumous concretions of the fibrous part. As a balsam : 
it destroys the ulcerous acrimony of the humours, and 
as a deobstruent it opens and cleans the vessels, restores ; 
their tone, and strengthens the digestion, whose defects 
are the principal cause of scurvy and cachexy. 

. 97. In the cure of the scurvy, the principal aim is 
to subdue the acrimony of the blood and juices. But 



302 sins. 

as this acrimony proceeds from different causey or even 
opposite, as acid and alkaline, what is good in one sort 
of scurvy proves dangerous or even mortal in another. 
It is well known, that hot antiscorbutics, where the 
juices of the body are alkalescent, increase the disease. 
And sour fruits and vegetables produce a like effect in 
the scurvy, caused by an acid acrimony. Hence fatal 
blunders are committed by unwary practitioners, who, 
not distinguishing the nature of the disease, do fre- 
quently aggravate instead of curing it If I may trust 
what trials I have been able to make, this water is good 
in the several kinds of scurvy, acid, alkaline, and muri- 
atic, and I believe it the only medicine that cures them 
all without doing hurt to any* As it contains a volatile 
acid * with a fine volatile oil, why may not a medicine 
cool in one part and warm in another be a remedy to 
either extreme, f I have observed it to produce a kindly 
genial warmth without heat, a thing to be aimed at in 
all sorts of scurvy. Besides, the balsam in tar water 
sheathes all scorbutic salts alike : and its great virtues as 
a digester and deobstruent are of general use in all scor- 
butic, and I may add, in all chronical cases whatsoever. 

98. I cannot be sure that I have tried it in a scro- 
fulous case, though I have tried it ' successfully in one 
that I suspected to be so. And I apprehend it would 
be very serviceable in such disorders. For although 
Dr. Gibbs in his treatise on the King's Evil derives that 
disease from a coagulating acid, which is also agreeable 
to the opinion of some other physicians, and although 
tar water contain an acid, yet, as it is a soap4 it re- 
solves instead of coagulating the juices of the body. 

99. For hysterical and hypochondriacal disorders so 
frequent among us, it is commonly supposed that all 
acids are bad. But I will venture to except the acid 
soap of tar water, having found by my own experience 
and that of many others, that it raises the spirits, and 

• Skct. 7. t Sect. 7*. J Sect. 69. 



siars. M$ 

ik an excellent antihybteric, nor less innocent than po- 
tent, winch cannot be said of those others in common 
nse^ that often leave people worse than they found them. 

100. In a high degree of scurvy a mercurial saliva- 
tion is looked on by many as the only cure ; which, by the 
vehement shock it gives the whole frame, and the sen- 
sible secretion it produceth, may be thought more ade- 
quate to suoh an effect. But the disorder occasioned 
by that violent process, it is to be feared, may never be 
got over. The immediate danger, the frequent bad 
effects, the extreme trouble and nice care attending 
such a course, do very deservedly make people afraid of 
it. And though die sensible secretion therein .be so 
great, yet in a longer tract of time the use of tar water 
may produce as great a discharge of scorbutic salts by 
urine and by perspiration, the effect of which last, 
though not so sensible, may yet be greater than that of 
salivation ; especially if it be true, that in common life 
insensible perspiration is to nutrition, and all sensible 
excretions, as five to three. 

101. Many hysteric and scorbutic aliments, many 
taints contracted by themselves, or inherited from their 
ancestors, afflict the people of condition in these islands, 
often rendering them, upon the whole, much more un- 
happy than those whom poverty and labour have rank- 
ed in the lowest lot of life ; which aliments might be 
safely removed or relieved by the sole use of tar water ; 
and those lives which seem hardly worth living for bad 
appetite, low spirits, restless nights, wasting pains and 
anxieties, be rendered easy and comfortable. 

102. As the nerves are instruments of sensation, 
it follows that spasms in the nerves may produce all 
symptoms, and therefore a disorder in the nervous sys- 
tem shall imitate all distempers, and occasion, in ap-i 
pearance, an asthma for instance, a pleurisy, or a fit of 
the stone. Now whatever is good for the nervfe in 
general, is good against all such symptofas. But tar 



/ 



304 suns. 

water, as it includes in an eminent degree the' virtues of 
warm -gums and resins, is of great use for comforting 
and strengthening the nerves,* curing twitches in the 
nervous fibres, cramps also, and numbness in the limbs, 
removing anxieties and promoting sleep, in all which 
cases I have known it very successful. 

103. This safe and cheap medicine suits all cir- 
cumstances and all constitutions, operating easily, curing 
without disturbing, raising the spirits without depress- 
ing them, a circumstance that deserves repeated at- 
tention, especially in these climates, where strong li- 
quors so fatally and so frequently produce those very 
distresses they are designed to remedy ; and, if I am 
not misinformed, even among the ladies themselves, 
who are truly much to be pitied. Their condition of 
life makes them a prey to imaginary woes, which never 
fail to grow up in minds unexercised and unemployed. 
To get rid of these, it is said, there are, who betake 
themselves to distilled spirits. And it is not improba- 
ble, they are led gradually to the use of those poisons 
by a certain complaisant pharmacy, too much used in 
the modern practice, palsy drops, poppy cordial, plague 
water, and such-like, which being in truth nothing but 
drams disguised, yet coming from the apothecaries, are 
considered only as medicines. 

104. The soul of man was supposed by many an- 
cient sages, to be thrust into the human body as into 
a prison, for punishment of past offences. But the 
worst prison is the body of an indolent epicure, whose 
blood is inflamed by fermented liquors f and high sauces, 
or rendered putrid, sharp, and corrosive, by a stagnation 
of the animal juices through sloth and indolence ; whose 
membranes are irritated by pungent salts ; whose mind 
is agitated by painful oscillations of the nervous system, J 
and whose nerves are mutually affected by the irregular 
passions of his mind. This ferment in the animal eco- 

* Sect. 36. + Sect. 06. J Sect. 86. 



Sims. 305 

homy darkens and confounds the intellect. It pro- 
duceth vain terrors and vain conceits, and stimulates 
the soul with mad desires, which, not being natural, 
nothing in nature can satisfy. No wonder, therefore* 
there are so many fine persons of both sexes, shining 
themselves, and shone on by fortune, who are inwardly 
miserable and sick of life. 

» 105. The hardness of stubbed vulgar constitutions, 
renders them insensible of a thousand things, that fret 
and gall those delicate people, who, as if their skin was 
peeled off, feel to the quick every thing that touches 
them. The remedy for this exquisite and painful sen- 
sibility is commonly sought from fermented, perhaps 
from distilled liquors, which render many lives wretched 
that would otherwise have been only ridiculous. The 
tender nerves and low spirits of such poor creatures 
would be much relieved by the use of tar water, which 
might prolong and cheer their lives. I do therefore 
recommend to them the use of a cordial, not only safe 
and innocent, but giving health and spirit as sure as 
other Qordials destroy them. 

106. I do verily think, there is not any other medi- 
cine whatsoever, so effectual to restore a crazy consti- 
tution, and cheer a dreary mind, or so likely to subvert 
that gloomy empire of the spleen* which tyrannizeth 
over the better sort (as they are called) of these free 
nations ; and maketh them, in spite of their liberty and 
property, more wretched slaves than even the subjects 
of absolute power, who breathe clear air in a sunny cli- 
mate. While men of low degree often enjoy a tran- 
quillity and content, that no advantage of birth or for- 
tune can equal. Such, indeed, was the case, while the 
rich alone could afford to be debauched ; but when even 
beggars became debauchees, the case was altered. 

107. The public virtue and spirit of the British 
legislature never shewed itself more conspicuous in any 

■" ' * Sect. 103. 



309. smis. 

act, than in that for suppressing the immoderate uae of 
distilled spirits among the people, whose strength and 
numbers constitute the true wealth of a nation : though 
evasive arts will, it is feared, prevail so long as dis- 
tilled spirits of any kind are allowed, the character of 
Englishmen in general being that of Brutus, Qwcqukt 
vult valde vult. But why should such a canker be tole- 
rated in the vitals of a state, under any pretence or in 
any shape whatsoever ? Better by far the whole pre- 
sent set of distillers were pensioners of the public, and 
their trade abolished by law ; since all the benefit there- 
of put together would not balance the hundredth part of 
its mischief. 

108. To prove the destructive effects of starch spi- 
rits with regard both to the human species and indivi- 
duals, we need not go so far as bur colonies, or die 
savage natives of America. Plain proof may be had 
nearer home. For, albeit there is in every town or di*» 
trict throughout England, some tough dram-drinker, 
set up as the devil's decoy, to draw in proselytes ; yet 
the ruined health and morals, and the beggary of such 
numbers, evidently shew that we need no other enfcmy 
to complete our destruction, than this cheap luxury at 
the lower end of the state, and that a nation lighted up 
at both ends must soon be consumed. 

109. It is much to be lamented that our insular*, 
who act and think so much for themselves, should yet, 
from grossness of air and diet, grow stupid or dote 
sooner than other people, who by virtue of elastic 
air, water drinking, and light food, preserve their facul- 
ties to extreme old age ; an advantage which may per- 
haps be approached, if not equalled, even in these re* 
gions, by tar water ; temperance, and early hours ; the 
last is a sure addition to life, not only in regard of 
time, which, being taken from sleep, the image of death, 
is added to the waking hours, but also in regard erf Ion- 
gevity and duration in the vulgar sense. I may say too, 



sinrs. 3ft7' 

in regard of spirit and vivacity, which, within the same 
compass of duration, may truly and properly be affirmed 
to add to man's life : it being manifest, that one man, 
by a brisker motion of his spirits and succession of his 
ideas,' shall live more in one hour than another in two : 
and that the quantity of life is to be estimated, not mere- 
ly from the duration, but also from the intensehess of 
living, Wfiich intense living, or, if I may so say, lively 
life, is not more promoted by early hours as a regimen, 
than by tar water ad a cordial ; which acts, not only as: 
a slow medicine, but hath also an immediate and cheer- 
ful effect on the spirits.* 

1 10. It must be owned, the light attracted, secret* 
ed, and detained in taf ,* and afterwards drawn off in its 
finest balsamic particles, by the gentle menstruum of 
cold water, is not a violent and sudden medicine, always 
to produce its effect at once (such, by irritating, often do 
more mischief than good), but a safe and mild alterative, 
which penetrates the whole system, opens, heals, and 
strengthens, the remote vessels, alters and propels 1 
their contents, and enters the minutest capillaries, and 
cannot therefore, otherwise than by degrees and in time, 
work a radical cure of chronic distempers. It gives ne- 
vertheless speedy relief in most cases, as I have found 
by myself and many others. I have been surprised to 
see persons fallen away and languishing under a bad di- 
gestion after a few weeks recover a good stomach, and: 
with it flesh and strength, so as to seem renewed, by 
the drinking of tar water. The strength and quantity of 
this water to be taken by each individual person is best 
determined from experience* And as for the time of tak- 
ing, I never knew any evil ensue from its being continued 
ever so long; but on the contrary, many and great advan- 
tages, which sometimes would not perhaps begin to shew 
themselves till it had been taken two or three months. 

+ S«*.66. fSfcct* 8.39*40. 



308 smis. 

Ill* We learn from Pliny, that m the first ferment 
of new wine or mustum, the ancients were wont to 
sprinkle it with powdered resin, which gave it a certain 
sprightliness, qucedam saporis acumina. This was es- 
teemed a great improver of its odour and taste, and was, 
I doubt not, of its salubrity also. The brown old resin, 
that is to say, hardened tar, as being more easily pulve- 
rized and sifted, was most in request for this purpose. 
They used likewise to season their wine vessels with 
pitch or resin. And I make no doubt, that if our vint- 
ners would contrive to medicate their wines with the 
same ingredients, they might improve and preserve them 
with less trouble and expense to themselves, and less 
danger to others. He that would know more particu- 
lars of this matter may consult Pliny and Columella. I 
shall only add, that I doubt not a similiar improvement 
may be made of malt liquor. 

1 12. The pnrivri of Theophrastus and resina of Pliny 
are sometimes used in a general sense, to signify all sorts 
of oily viscid exudations from plants or trees. The 
crude watery juice, that riseth early in the spring, is gra- 
dually ripened and inspissated by the solar heat, becom- 
ing in orderly, succession with the seasons an oil, a bal- 
sam, and at last a resin. And it is observed by die- 
mists, that turpentine dissolved over a gentle fire, is, by 
the constant operation of heat, successively transformed 
into oil, balsam, pitch, and hard friable resin, which will 
incorporate with oil or rectified spirit, but not with 
water. 

113. Sir John Floyer remarks, that we wtot a me- 
thod for the use of tupentine : and again, he who shall 
hit, saith he, on the pleasantest method of giving tur- 
pentine, will do great cures in the gout, stone, catarrhs, 
dropsies, and cold scurvies, rheumatisms, ulcers, and ob- 
structions of the glands. Lastly, he subjoins, that for 
the use of altering and amending the juices and fibres, it 



siris. 309 

most be given frequently, and in such small quantities 
at a time, and in so commodious a manner, as will agree 
best with the stomach,* stay longest in the body, and 
not purge itself off; for large doses (saith he) go 
through too quick, and besides offend the head. Now 
the infusion of tar or turpentine in cold water seems to 
supply the very method that was wanted, as it leaves the 
more unctuous and gross parts behind,")* which might 
offend the stomach, intestines, and head ; and as it may 
be easily taken, and as often, and in such quantity and 
such degree of strength, as suits the case of the patient, 
nor should it seem, that the fine spirit and volatile oil, 
obtained by infusion of tar, $ is inferior to that of tur- 
pentine, to which it superadds the virtue of wood soot, 
which is known to be very great with respect to the 
head and nerves ; and this appears evident from the 
manner of obtaining tar.§ And as the fine volatile 
parts of tar or turpentine are drawn off by infusion in 
cold water, and easily conveyed throughout the whole 
system of the human body ; so it should seem the same 
method may be used with all sorts of balsams or resins 
whatsoever, as the readiest, easiest, and most inoffensive, 
as well as in many cases the most effectual way of ob- 
taining and imparting their virtues. 

1 14. After having said so much of the uses of tar, I 
must farther add, that being rubbed on them, it is an 
excellent preservative of the teeth and gums: that it 
sweetens the breath, and that it clears and strengthens 
the voice. And, as its effects are various and useful, so 
there is nothing to be feared from the operation of an al- 
terative so mild and friendly to nature. It was a wise 
maxim of certain ancient philosophers, that diseases 
ought not to be irritated by medicines. |j But no me- 
dicine disturbs the animal economy less than this, 

•Sect. 9. f 8ect. 47. % Sect. 7. 42.58. 

$ Sect. IS. || Sect. 103 



9 



310 9M1*. 

which, if f may trust my own experience, ne w er p roduces 
my disorder in a patient when rightly taken. 

115. I knew indeed a person who took a large glass 
of tar water just before breakfast, which gave him an in- 
vincible nausea and disgust, although he had before re- 
ceived the greatest benefit from it. But if the tar water 
be taken and made in the manner prescribed at the be- 
ginning of this essay, it will, if I mistake not, have 
enough of the salt to be useful, and little enough of the 
oil to be inoffensive. I mean my own manner of mak- 
ing it, and not the American, which makes it som e tim es 
too strong and sometimes too weak, and however service* 
able as there used merely for a preservative against 
the small-pox, yet may not be fit to use in all those va* 
rious cases wherein I have found tar water so success- 
ful. Persons more delicate than ordinary may render it 
palatable, by mixing a drop of the chemical oil of nut* 
megs, or a spoonful of mountain- wine in each glass. It 
may not be amiss to observe, that I have known some, 
whose nice stomachs could not bear it in the morning, 
take it at night going to bed without any inconvenience. 
For outward washes and fomentations, it may be made 
stronger, as by pouring on warm water ; also for brute 
beasts, as horses, in whose disorders I have found it very 
useful, I believe more so than that bituminous sub- 
stance called Barbadoes tar. 

1 1 6. In very dangerous and acute cases much may- 
be taken and often ; as far as the stomach can bear. 
But in chronical cases, about half a pint night and morn- 
ing may suffice, or, in case so large a doxe should 
prove disagreeable, half the quantity may be taken four 
times, to wit, in the morning early, at night going to 
bed, and about two hours after dinner and breakfast A 
medicine of so great virtue in so many different dis- 
orders, and especially in that grand enemy the fever, 
must needs be a benefit to mankind in general. There 
are nevertheless three sorts of people to whom I would 



SIBI8. 311 

peculiarly recommend it : seafaring persons, ladies, and 
men of studious and sedentary lives. 

117. To sailors and all seafaring persons, who are 
subject to scorbutic disorders and putrid fevers, espe- 
cially in long southern voyages, I am persuaded this tar 
water would be very beneficial. And this may deserve 
particular notice in the present course of marine expe- 
ditions* when so many of our countrymen have perished 
by such distempers, contracted at sea and in foreign 
climates. Which, it is probable, might have been pre- 
vented by the copious use of tar water. 

118. This same water will also give charitable relief 
to the ladies,* who often want it more than the parish 
poor ; being many of them never able to make a good 
meal, and sitting pale, puny, and forbidden like ghosts, 
at their own table, victims of vapours and indigestion. 

119* Studious persons also pent up in narrow holes, 
breathing bad air, and stooping over their books, a*e 
much to be pitied. As they are debarred the free use 
of air and exercise, this I will venture to recommend as 
the best succedaneum to both. Though it were to be 
wished, that modem scholars would, like the ancients, 
meditate and converse more in walks and gardens and* 
open air, which upon the whole would perhaps be no 
binderance to their learning, and a great advantage to 
their health. My own sedentary course of life had 
long since thrown me into an ill habit, attended with 
many ailments, particularly a nervous cholic, which ren- 
dered my life a burden, and the more so, because my* 
pains were exasperated by exercise. But since the use 
of tar water, I find, though not a perfect recovery from 
my old and rooted illness, yet such a gradual return 
of health mid ease, that I esteem my having taken 
this medicine the greatest of all temporal blessings, 
and am convinced, that, under Providence, I owe my 
life to it. 

. • Sect. 103. 



312 siris. 

120. In the distilling of turpentine. and other bal- 
sams by a gentle heat, it hath been observed, that there 
riseth first an acid spirit * that will mix with water ; 
which spirit, except the fire be very gentle, is lost. This 
grateful acid spirit that first comes over, is, as a learned 
chemist and physician informs us, highly refrigeratory, 
diuretic, sudorific, balsamic, or preservative from. putre- 
faction, excellent in nephitric cases, and for quenching 
thirst, all which virtues are contained in the cold infu- 
sion, which draws forth from tar only its fine flower or 
quintessence, if I may so say, or the native vegetable 
spirit, together with a little volatile oil. 

121. The distinguishing principle of all vegetables, 
that whereon their peculiar smell, taste, and specific 
properties, depend, seems to be some extremely fine and 
subtile spirit, whose immediate vehicle is an exceeding 
thin volatile oil, which is itself detained in a grosser and 
more viscid resin or balsam, lodged in proper cells in the 
bark and seeds, and most abounding in autumn or 
winter, after the crude juices have been thoroughly con- 
cocted, ripened, and impregnated with solar light. The 
spirit itself is by some supposed to be an oil highly sub- 
tilized, so as to mix with water. But such volatile oil 
is not the spirit, but only its vehicle. Since aromatic 
oils being long exposed to air, will lose their specific 
smell and taste, which fly off with the spirit or vege- 
table salt, without any sensible diminution of the oil. 

122. Those volatile salts that are set free and raised 
by a gentle heat, may justly be supposed essential,! and 
to have pre-existed in the vegetable ; whereas the lix- 
ivial fixed salts obtained by the incineration of the sub- 
ject, whose natural constituent parts have been altered 
or destroyed by the extreme force of fire, or by later 
chemists upon very good grounds, supposed not to have 
pre-existed therein ; all such salts appearing, from the 
experiments of Signior Redi, not to preserve the virtues 

* Sect. 7. t Sect. 8. 



siris. 313 

of the respective vegetable subjects; and to be alike 
purgative and in an equal degree, whatsoever may be the 
shape of their points, whether sharp or obtuse. But 
although fixed or lixivial salts may not contain the ori- 
ginal properties of the subject ; yet volatile salts, raised 
by a slight heat from vegetables, are allowed to preserve 
their native virtues : and such salts are readily imbibed 
by water. 

123. The most volatile of the salts, and the most 
attenuated part of the oil, may be supposed the first and 
readiest to impregnate a cold infusion.* And this will 
assist us to account for the virtues of tar water. That 
volatile acid in vegetables, which resists putrefaction and 
is their great preservative, is detailed in a subtile oil mis- 
cible with water, which oil is itself imprisoned in the 
resin or grosser part of the tar, from which it is easily 
set free and obtained pure by cold water. 

124. The mild native acids are observed more 
kindly to work upon, and more thoroughly to dissolve, 
metallic bodies, than the strongest acid spirits produced 
by a vehement fire ; and it may be suspected, they have 
the same advantage as a medicine. And as no acid, by 
the observation of some of the best chemists, can be ob- 
tained from the substance of animals thoroughly assimi- 
lated, it should follow, that the acids received into a 
healthy body must be quite subdued and changed by the 
vital powers : but it is easier to subdue and assimilate 
the gentler than the stronger acids.f 

125. I am very sensible, that on such subjects argu- * 
ments fall short of evidence : and that mine fall short 
even of what they might have been if I enjoyed better 
health, or those opportunities of a learned commerce, 
from which I am cut off in this remote corper. I ^fiall 
nevertheless go on as I have begun, and proceed by 
reason, by conjecture, and by authority, to cast the 
best light I can on the obscure paths that lie in my way. 

♦ S€fct. l/7. + Sec^4«. 

VOL. 111. Y 



' I 



314 siris. 

w 

126. Sir Isaac Newton, Boerhaave* and Homberg, 
are all agreed, that the acid is a fine subtile substance, 
pervading the whole terraqueous globe; which pro- 
duceth divers kinds of bodies, as it is united to differ- 
ent subjects. This according to Homberg is the pure 
salt, salt the principle, in itself similar and uniform, but 
never found alone. And although this principle be 
called the salt of the earth, yet it should seem it may 
more properly be called the salt of the air, since earth 
turned up and lying fallow receives it from the air. 
And it should seem that this is the great principle of 
vegetation, derived into the earth from all sorts of ma- 
nures, as well as from the air. The acid is allowed to 
be the cause of fermentation in all fermented liquors. 
Why therefore may it not be supposed to ferment the 
earth, and to constitute that fine penetrating principle, 
which introduces and assimilates the food of plants, and 
is so fugitive as to escape all the filtrations and perqui- 
sitions of the most nice observers ? 

127. It is the doctrine of Sir Isaac Newton and 
Monsieur Homberg, that, as the watery acid is that 
which renders salt soluble in water, so it is that same 
which joined to the earthy part makes it a salt. Let it 
therefore be considered, that the organs of plants are 
tubes,* the filling, unfolding, and distending whereof by 
liquors, doth constitute what is called the vegetation 
or growth of the plant. But earth itself is not soluble 
in water, so as to form one vegetable fluid therewith. 
Therefore the particles of earth must be joined with a 
watery acid, that is, they must become salts in order to 
dissolve in water ; that so, in the form of a vegetable 
juice, they may pass through the strainers and tubes of 
the root into the body of the plant, swelling and distend- 
ing its parts and organs, that is, increasing its bulk. 
Therefore the vegetable matter of the earth is in effect 
earth changed into salt. And to render earth fertile, 

♦ Sect. SO, SI. 35. 



sibis. 316 

is to cause many of its particles to assume a saline 
form. 

128. Hence it is observed, there are more salts in 
the root than in the bark, more salts in vegetables dur- 
ing the spring than in the autumn or winter, the crude 
saline juices being in the summer months partly evapo- 
rated, and partly ripened, by the action and mixture of 
light. Hfcnce also k appears, why the dividing of earth, 
so as to enlarge ks surface, whereby it may admit more 
acid from the air, is of such use in promoting vegetation : 
and why ashes, lime, and burnt clay, are found so pro* 
fkable manures, iire being in reality the acid, as is 
proved in the sequel.* Marls also and shells are use- 
ful, forasmuch as those alkaline bodies attract the acid, 
and raise an effervescence with it, thereby promoting a 
fermentation in the glebe. The excrements of animals 
and putrid vegetables do in like manner contribute to 
vegetation, by increasing the salts of the earth. And 
where fallows are well broken, and lie long to receive 
the acid of the air into all their parts : this alone will be 
sufficient to change many terrene particles into salts, 
and consequently render them soluble in water, and 
therefore a fit aliment for vegetables. 

129. The acid, saith Homberg, is always joined to 
some sulphur, which determines it to this or that spe- 
cies, producing different salts, as it is the vegetable, 
bituminous, or metallic sulphur. Even the alkaline, 
whether volatile or lixivial salts, are supposed to be no- 
thing but this same acid strictly detained by oil and 
earth, in spite of the extreme force of fire, which lodg- 
eth in them, without being able to dislodge some re- 
mains of the. acid. 

130. Salts, according to Sir Isaac Newton, are dry 
earth and watery add united by attraction, the acid ren- 
dering them soluble, in water. f- He supposeth the 
watery acid to flow round the terrestrial part, as the 

♦ Sect 202. + Sect. 127. 

Y 2 



316 SIHIS, 

ocean doth round the earth, being attracted thereby, 
and compares each particle of salt to a chaos, whereof 
the innermost part is hard and earthy, but the surface 
soft and watery. Whatever attracts and is attracted 
most strongly, is an acid in his sense. 

131. It seems impossible to determine the figures 
of particular salts. All acid solvents, together with the 
dissolved bodies, are apt to shoot into certain figures. 
And the figures, in which the fossil salts crystallize, 
have been supposed the proper natural shapes of them 
and their acids. But Homberg hath clearly shewed the 
contrary : forasmach as the same acid dissolving differ- 
ent bodies assumes different shapes. Spirit of nitre, 
for instance, having dissolved copper, shoots into hexa- 
gonal crystals ; the same having dissolved iron, shoots 
into irregular squares; and again, having dissolved 
silver, forms thin crystals of a triangular figure. 

132. Homberg, nevertheless, holds in general, that 
acids are shaped like daggers, and alkalies like sheaths : 
and that, moving in the same liquor, the daggers run 
into the sheaths fitted to receive them, with such vio- 
lence as to raise that effervescence observed in the mix- 
ture of acids and alkalies. But it seems very difficult 
to conceive, how or why the mere configuration of dag- 
gers and sheaths, floating in the same liquor, should 
cause the former to rush with such vehemence, and 
direct their points so aptly into the latter, any more than 
a parcel of spigots and fossets floating together in the 
same water, should rush one into the other. 

J 33. It should seem rather, that the vehement 
attraction which Sir Isaac Newton attributes to all 
acids, whereby he supposeth them to rush towards, pe- 
netrate, shake, and divide the most solid bodies, and to 
ferment the liquid of vegetables, could better account 
for this phenomenon. It is in this attraction that Sir 
Isaac placeth all their activity, and indeed it should 
seem, the figures of salts were not of such efficacy in 



siris. 317 

producing their effects, as the strong active powers' 
whereby they are agitated and do agitate other bodies. 
Especially if it be true (what was before remarked) that 
lixivious salts are alike, purgative, whatever may be the 
shape of their angles, whether more or less acute or 
obtuse. 

134. Sir Isaac Newton accounts for the watery 
acid's making ' earthy corpuscles soluble in water, by 
supposing the acid to be a mean between earth and 
water, its particles greater- than those of water, and less 
than those of earth, and strongly to attract both. But 
perhaps there is no necessary reason, for supposing the 
parts of the acid grosser than the parts of water, in order 
to produce this effect. May not this as well be ac- 
counted for, by giving them only a strong attraction or 
cohesion with the bodies to which they are joined ? % 

135. The acid spirit or salt, that mighty instru- 
ment in the hand of nature, residing in the air, and 
diffused throughout that whole element, is discernible 
also in many parts of the earth, particularly in fossils, 
such as sulphur, vitriol, and all urn. It was already ob- 
served from Homberg, that this acid is never found 
pure, but hath always sulphur joined with it, and is 
classed by the difference of its sulphurs, whether mi- 
neral, vegetable, or animal. 

136. Salts are vulgarly reckoned the most active of 
chemical principles. But Homberg derives all their 
activity from the sulphur joined with them. From 
which also, as hath been said, he derives all their kinds 
and differences.* Salt, water, oil, and earth, seem to be 
originally the same in all vegetables. All the difference, 
according to the chemists, ariseth from a spirit residing 
in the oil, called the rector or archaeus. This is other* 
wise called by chemists ens primum, or the native spirit, 
whereon depend, and wherein are contained, the pecu- 

* Sect. 129. 



318 situs. 

liar flavour and odour, the specific qualities and virtues, 
of the plant. 

137. These native spirits or vegetable soots are all 
breathed or exhaled into the air, which seems' the recep- 
tacle as well as source of all sublunary forms, the great 
mass or chaos which imparts and receives them. The 
air or atmosphere that surrounds our earth contains a 
mixture of all the active volatile parts of the whole habit- 
able world, that is, of all vegetables, minerals, and ani- 
mals. Whatever perspires, corrupts, or exhales, im- 
pregnates the air ; which, being acted upon by the solar 
fire, produceth within itself all sorts of chemical opera- 
tions, dispensing again those salts and spirits in new 
generations, which it had received from putrefactions. 

138. The perpetual oscillations of this elastic and 
restless element, operate without ceasing on all things 
that have life, whether animal or vegetable, keeping 
their fibres, vessels, and fluids, in motion, always chang- 
ing ; as heat, cold, moisture, dryness, and other causes 
alter the elasticity of the air : which accounts, it must 
be owned, for many effects. But there are many more 
which must be derived from other principles or qualities 
in the air. Thus iron and copper are cofroded and 
gather rust in the air, and bodies of all sorts are dissolved 
or corrupted, which sheweth an acid to abound and dif- 
fuse itself throughout the air. 

13Q. By this same air fire is kindled, the lamp of 
life preserved, respiration, digestion, nutrition, the pulse 
of the heart and motion of all the muscles, seem to be 
performed. Air therefore is a general agent, not only 
exerting its own, but calling forth the qualities or powers 
of all other bodies, by a division, comminution, and 
agitation, of their particles, causing them to fly off and 
become volatile and active. 

140. Nothing ferments, vegetates, or putrefies, with- 
out air, which operates with all the virtues of the bodies 



siais. 310 

included in it; that is, of all nature; there being no 
drug, salutary or poisonous, whose virtues are not 
breathed into the air. The air therefore is an active 
mass of numberless different principles, the general 
source of corruption and generation ; on one hand di- 
viding, abrading, and carrying off, the particles of bodies, 
that is, corrupting or dissolving them ; on the other, pro- 
ducing new ones into being ; destroying and bestow- 
ing forms without intermision. 

141. The seeds of things seem to lie latent in the. 
air, ready to appear and produce their kind, whenever 
they light on a proper matrix. The extremely small 
seeds of fern, mosses, mushrooms, and some other plants, 
are concealed and wafted about in the air, every part 
whereof seems replete with seeds of one kind or other. 
The whole atmosphere seems alive. There is every 
where add to corrode, and seed to engender. Iron will 
tust, and mould will grow, in all places. Virgin earth 
becomes fertile, crops of new plants ever and anon shew 
themselves, all which demonstrate the air to be a com- 
mon seminary and receptacle of all vivifying principles. 

14^. Air may also be said to be the seminary of mi- 
nerals and metals, as it is of vegetables. Mr. Boyle 
informs us, that the exhausted ores of tin and iron be- 
ing exposed to the air become again impregnated with 
metal, and that ore of alum having lost its salt recovers; 
it after the same manner. And numberless instances 
there are of salts produced by the air, that vast collec- 
tion or treasury of active principles, from which all sub- 
lunary bodies seem to derive their forms, and on which 
animals depend for their life and breath. 

143. That there is some latent vivifyingspirit dispersed 
throughout the air common experience 6heweth ; inso- 
much as it is necessary both to vegetables and animals,* 
whether terrestrial or aquatic, neither beasts, insects, 

♦ Sect 158, 159. 



•120- siris. 

birds, nor fishep, being able to subsist withoutair. Nor 
doth all air suffice, there being some quality or ingre- 
dient, of which when air is deprived, it becometh unfit 
to maintain either life or flame. And this even though 
the air should retain its elasticity ; which, by the by, is 
an argument that air doth not act only as an antagonist 
to the intercostal muscles. It hath both that and many 
other uses. It gives and preserves a proper tone to the 
vessels : this elastic fluid promotes all secretions : its 
oscillations keep every part in motion ; it pervades and 
actuates the whole animal system, producing great va- 
riety of effects, and even opposite in different parts, cool- 
ing at the same time and heating, distending and con- 
tracting, coagulating and resolving, giving and taking, 
sustaining life and impairing it, pressing without and ex- 
. panding within, abrading some parts, at the same time 
insinuating and supplying others, producing various vi- 
brations in the fibres, and ferments in the fluids ; all 
which must needs ensue from such a subtile, active, 
heterogeneous, and elastic fluid. 

J 4 4. But there is, as we before observed, some one 
quality or ingredient in the air, on which life more im- 
mediately and principally depends. What that is, though 
men are not agreed, yet it is agreed it must be the same 
thing that supports the vital and the common flame ; it 
being found that when air, by often breathing in it, is be- 
come unfit for the one, it will no longer serve for the other. 
The, like is observable in poisonous damps or steams, 
wherein flamecannot be kindled ; as is evident in the grot- 
to del cane near Naples. And here it occurs, to recom- 
mend the plunging them in cold water, as an experiment 
to be tried on persons affected by breathing a poisonous 
vapour in old vaults, mines, deep holes or cavities under 
ground : which, I am apt to think, might save the lives 
of several, by what I have seen practised on a dog con- 
vulsed and in all appearance dead, but instantly reviving 



SlRIS. 

on being taken out of the abovementioned grotto and 
thrown into a lake adjacent. 

) 45. Air, the general menstruum and seminary, seem- 
eth to be only an aggregate of the volatile parts of all 
natural beings, which, variously combined and agitated, 
produceth many various effects. Small particles in a 
near and close situation strongly act upon each other, 
attracting, repelling, vibrating. Hence divers fermen- 
tations, and all the variety of meteors, tempests, and 
concussions, both of earth and firmament. Nor is the 
microcosm less affected thereby. Being pent up in the 
viscera, vessels, and membranes, of the body, by its 
sails, sulphurs, and elastic power, it engenders cholics, 
spasms, hysteric disorders, and other maladies. 

146. The specific quality of air is taken to be per- 
manent elasticity. Mr. Boyle is expressly of this opi- 
nion. And yet, whether there be any such thing aft 
permanently elastic air may be doubted, there being 
many things which seem to rob the air of this quality, 
or at least lessen and suspend its exertion. The salts 
and sulphurs, for instance, that float in the air, abate 
much of its elasticity by their attraction. 

147. Upon the whole it is manifest, that air is no 
distinct element, but a mass or mixture of things the 
most heterogeneous and even opposite to each other,* 
which become air by acquiring an elasticity and vola- 
tility from the attraction of some active subtile sub- 
stance ; whether it be called fire, ether, light, or the 
vital spirit of the world ; in like manner as the particles of 
antimony, of themselves not volatile, are carried off in 
sublimation, and rendered volatile by cohering with the 
particles of sal ammoniac. But action and reaction 
being equal, the spring of this ethereal spirit is dimi- 
nished by being imparted. Its velocity and subtilty 
are also less from its- being mixed with grosser particles. 
Hence sound moves slower than light, as mud than water. 

• Sect. 137. 145. 



922 8LBI3. 

148. Whether air be only freed and fixed, or gene- 
rated and destroyed, it is certain that air begins and 
ceases to exert or shew itself. Much by experiments 
deems to be generated, not only from animals, fruits, 
. apd vegetables, but also from hard bodies. And it is 
observed by Sir Isaac Newton, that air produced from 
hard bodies is most" elastic. The transmutation of ele- 
ments, each into other, hath been anciently held. In 
Plutarch we find it was the opinion of Heraclitus, that 
the death of fire was a birth to air, and the death of air 
a birth to water. This opinion is also maintained by 
Sir Isaac Newton. Though it may be questioned,- whe- 
ther what is thought a change be not only a disguise. 

14Q. Fire seems the most elastic and expansive of 
all bodie s. It communicates this quality to moist va- 
pours and dry exhalations, when it heats an d agitates 
their parts, cohering closely with them, overcoming 
their former mutual . attraction, and causing them, in- 
stead thereof, reciprocally to repel each other and fly 
asunder, with a force proportionable to that wherewith 
they had cohered. 

150. Therefore in air we may conceive two parts, 
the one more gross, which was raised and carried off 
. from the bodies of this terraqueous mass ; the other a 
fine subtile spirit, by means whereof the former is ren- 
dered volatile and elastic. Together they compose a me- 
dium whose elasticity is less than that of pure ether, fire, 
or spirit, in proportion to the quantity of salts, vapours, 
and heterogeneous particles, contained therein. Hence 
it follows, that there is no such thing as the pure sim- 
ple element of air. It follows also that on the highest 
mountains, air should be more rare in proportion to the 
vulgar rule, of the spaces being reciprocally as the pres- 
sures : and so in fact it is said to have been found, by 
the gentlemen of the French Academy of Sciences. 

151. Ether, fire, or spirit, being attracted and clogged 
by heterogeneous particles, becometh less active ; and 



tile particles cohering with those of ether, become more 
active than before. Air therefore is a mass of various 
particles, abraded and sublimated from wet and dry 
bodies of all sorts, cohering with particles of ether ; 
the whole permeated by pure ether, or light, or fire : 
for these words are used promiscuously by ancient phi- 
losophers. 

152. This ether or pure invisible fire, the most sub- 
tile and elastic of all bodies, seems to pervade and ex- 
pand itself throughout the whole universe. If air be 
the immediate agent or instrument in natural things, it 
is the pure invisible fire that is the first natural mover 
or spring, from whence the air derives its power.* 
This mighty agent is every where at hand, ready to 
break forth into action, if not restrained and governed 
with the greatest wisdom. Being always restless and in 
motion, it actuates and enlivens the whole visible mass, 
is equally fitted to produce and to destroy, distinguishes 
the various stages of nature, and keeps up the perpetual 
round of generations and corruptions, pregnant with 
forms which it constantly sends forth and resorbs. So 
quick in its motions, so subtile and penetrating in its 
nature, so extensive in its effects, it seemeth no other 
than the vegetative soul or vital spirit of the world. 

153. The animal spirit in man is the instrumental 
or physical cause both of sense and motion. To sup- 
pose sense in the world would be gross and unwar- 
ranted. But locomotive faculties are evident in all its 
parts. The Pythogoreans, Platonists, and Stoics, held 
the world to be an animal ; though some of them have 
chosen to consider it as a vegetable. However, the 
phenomena and effects do plainly shew there is a spirit 
that moves, and a mind or Providence that presides. 
This Providence, Plutarch saith, was thought to be in 
regard to the world, what the soul is in regard to man. 

154. The order and course of things, and the ex- 

• Sect. 139. 140. 151. 



324 smis. 

periments we daily tnake, shew there is a mind that 
governs and actuates this mundane system, as the proper 
real agent and cause. And that the inferior instru- 
mental cause is pure ether, fire, or the substance of 
light,* which is applied and determined by an infinite 
mipd in the macrocosm or universe, with unlimited 
power, and according to stated rules'; as it is jn the mi- 
crocosm with limited power and skill by the human - 
mind. We have no proof, either from experiment or 
reason, or of any other agent or efficient cause than 
mind or spirit. When therefore we speak of corporeal 
' agents or corporeal causes, this is to be understood in a 
different, subordinate, and improper sense. 

155. The principles whereof a thing is compounded, 
the instrument used in its production, and the end for 
which it was intended, are all in vulgar use termed 
causes, though none of them be strictly speaking agent 
or efficient. There is not any proof that an extended 
corporeal or mechanical cause doth really and properly 
act,(even motion itself being in truth a passion.) There- 
fore though we speak of this fiery substance as acting, 
yet it is to be understood only as a mean or instrument, 
which indeed is the case of all mechanical causes what- 
soever. They are nevertheless sometimes termed agents 
and causes, although they are by no means active in a 
strict and proper signification. When therefore force, 
power, virtue, or action, is mentioned as subsisting in 
an extended and corporeal or mechanical being,. this is 
not to be taken in a true, genuine, and real, but only in 
a gross and popular sense, which sticks in appearances, 
and doth not analyze things to their first principles. In 
compliance with established language and the use of the 
world, we must employ the popular current phrase. 
But then in regard to truth we ought to distinguish its 
meaning. It may suffice to have made this declaration 
once for all, in order to avoid mistakes. 

* Sect. 29. 37. 136. 1*9. 



sib 1 5. 325 

156* The calidum innatum, the vital flame, or ani- 
mal spirit in man, is supposed the cause of all motions, 
in the several parts of his body, whether voluntary or 
natural. That it is accounted the instrument, by means 
whereof the mind exerts and manifests herself in the 
motions of the body. In the same sense may not fire 
be said to have force, to operate and agitate the whole 
system of the world, which is held together and in- 
formed by one presiding mind, and animated through- 
out by one and the same fiery substance, as an instru- 
mental and mechanical agent, not as a primary real 
efficient. 

157. This pure spirit or invisible fire is ever ready 
to exert and shew itself in its effects,* cherishing, heat- 
ing, fermenting, dissolving, shining, and operating, in 
various manners, where a subject offers to employ or de- 
termine its force. It is present in all parts of the earth 
and firmament, though perhaps latent and unobserved, 
till some accident produceth it into act, and renders it 
visible in its effects. 

158. There is no effect in nature, great, marvellous, 
or terrible, but proceeds from fire, that diffused and 
active principle, which at the- same time that it shakes 
the earth and heavens, will enter, divide, and dissolve, 
the smallest, closest, and most compacted bodies. In 
remote cavities of the earth it remains quiet, till perhaps 
an accidental spark from the collision of one stone 
against another kindles an exhalation, that gives birth 
to an earthquake or tempest, which splits mountains or 
overturns cities. This same fire stands unseen in the 
focus of a burning-glass, till subjects for it to act upon 
come in its way, when it is found to melt, calcine, or 
vitrify, the hardest bodies. 

159. No eye could ever hitherto discern, and no 
sense perceive, the animal spirit in a human body, other- 
wise than from its effects. The same may be said of 

♦Sect. 158. 



320 sibis. 

pure fire, or the spirit of the universe, which is perdeived 
only by means of some other bodies, on which it ope- 
rates or with which it is joined. What the chemists 
say, of pure acids being never found alone, might as 
well be said of pure fire. ' 

1 60. The mind of man acts by an instrument neces- 
sarily. The ro vywovucdv, or mind presiding in the 
world, acts by an instrument freely. Without instru- 
mental and second causes, there could be no regular 
course of nature. And without a regular course, nature 
could never be understood. Mankind must always be 
at a loss, not knowing what to expect, or how to govern 
themselves, or direct their actions for the obtaining of 
any end. Therefore in the government of the world 
physical agents, improperly so called, or mechanical, or 
second causes, or natural causes, or instruments, are ne- 
cessary to assist, not the governor, but the governed. 

161. In the human body the mind orders and moves 
the limbs : but the animal spirit is supposed the imme- 
diate physical cause of their motion. So likewise in 
the mundane system, a mind presides, but the imme- 
diate, mechanical, or instrumental cause, that moves or 
animates all its parts, is the pure elementary fire or 
spirit of the world. The more fine and subtile part or 
spirit is supposed to receive the impressions of the first 
mover, and communicate them to the grosser sensible 
parts of this world. Motion, though in metaphysical 
rigour and truth a passion or mere effect, yet in phy- 
sics passdth for an action. And by this action all effects 
are supposed to be produced. Hence the various com- 
munications, determinations, accelerations of motion, 
constitute the laws of nature. 

162. The pure ether or invisible fire contains parts 
of different kinds, that are impressed with different 
forces, or subjected to different laws of motion, attrac- 
tion, repulsion, and expansion, and endued with divers 
distinct habitudes towards other bodies. These seem 



sibis. S27 

to constitute the many various qualities,* virtues, fla- 
vours, odours, and colours, which distinguish natural 
production^. The different modes of cohesion, attrac- 
tion, repulsion, and motion, appear to be the source 
from whence specific properties are derived, rather than 
different shapes or figures. This,a£ hath been already 
observed, seems confirmed by the experiment of fixed 
salts operating dne way, notwithstanding the difference 
of their angles. The original particles productive of 
odours, flavours, and other properties, as well as of co- 
lours, are, one may suspect, all contained and blended 
together in that universal and original seminary of pure 
and elementary fire ; from which they are diversely sepa- 
rated and attracted, by the various subjects of the animal, 
vegetable, and mineral kingdoms ; which thereby become 
classed into kinds, and endued with those distinct pro- 
perties, which continue till their several forms, or speci- 
fic proportions of fire, return into the common mass. 

163. As the soul acts immediately on pure fire, so 
pure fire operates immediately on air ; that is, the abra- 
sions of all terrestrial things being rendered volatile and 
elastic by fire,f and at the same time lessening the vo- 
latility and expansive force of the fire, whose particles 
they attract and adhere to, J there is produced a new 
fluid, .more volatile than water or earth, and more fixed 
than fire. Therefore the virtues and operations imputed 
to air, must be ultimately attributed to fire, as that which 
imparts activity to air itself. 

164. The element of ethereal fire or light seems 
to comprehend, in a mixed state, the seeds, the natural 
causes and forms,§ of all sublunary things. The grosser 
bodies separate, attract, and repel, the several constituent 
particles of that heterogeneous element ; which, being 
parted from the common mgss, make distinct essences, 
producing and combining together such qualities and 

* Sect. 37. 40. 44. + Sect. 149. 150. 15*. 

X Sect. 147. § Sect. 43. 



328 sibis. 

properties, as are peculiar to the several subjects, and 
thence often extracted in essential oils or odoriferous 
waters, from whence they exhale into the open air, and 
return into their original element. 

1 6o. Blue, red, yellow, and other colours, have been 
discovered by Sir Isaac Newton to depend on the parted 
rays or particles of light. And in like manner, a par- 
ticular odour or flavour seemeth to depend on peculiar 
particles of light or fire ;* as appears from heats beirtghe- 
cessary to all vegetation whatsoever, and from the ex- 
treme mi nuteness and volatility of those vegetable souls or 
forms, flying off from the subjects without any sensible 
diminution of their weight. These particles, blended 
in one common ocean, should seem to conceal the dis- 
tinct forms, but, parted and attracted by proper sub- 
jects, disclose or produce them. As the particles of 
light, which, when separated, form distinct colours, be- 
ing blended are lost in one uniform appearance. 

166. Agreeably thereto an ethereal substance or 
fire was supposed by Heraclitus to be the seed of the 
generation of all things, or that from which all things 
drew their original. The Stoics also taught, that all 
substance was originally fire, and should return to fire : 
that an active subtile fire was diffused or expanded 
throughout the whole universe; the several parts where- . 
of were produced, sustained, and held together, by its 
force. And it was the opinion of the Pythagoreans, 
as Laertius informs us, that heat or fire was the princi- 
ple of life, animating the whole system, and penetrating 
all the clements.f The Platonists too, as well as the 
Pythagoreans, held fire to be the immediate natural 
agent, or animal spirit ; to cherish, to warm, to heat, 
to enlighten, to vegetate, to produce the digestions, 
circulations, secretions, and organical motions,- in all 
living bodies, vegetable or animal, being effects of that 
element, which, as it actuates the macrocosm, so it ani- 

• Sect. 40. t Sect. 159, 153. 



SIMS. 330 

Hiatus the microcosm. In the Timwis ofPbto, them 
if supposed something like a net of fire, and rays of fire 
in a human body. Doth not this seem to mean the 
iftknal spirit, flowing, or ra&er darting, through the 
nerves £ 

167/ According to the Peripatetics, the form of 
heaven, or the fiery ethereal substance, contains .the 
forms of all inferior beings * It may be said to teem 
with forms, and impart them to subjects fitted to re- 
ceive diem. Hie vital force thereof in the Peripatetic 
flense is vital to all, but diversely received according to 
the diversity of the subjects. So all colours are virtu- 
ally contained in the light ; but their actual distinctions 
of blue, red, yellow, and the rest, depend on the differ- 
ence of the objects which it illustrates. Aristotle, in the 
book De Mundo, supposeth a certain fifth essence, an 
ethereal nature, unchangeable and impassive ; and next 
hi order a subtile flaming substance, lighted up or set 
on fire by that ethereal and Divine nature. He sup- 
poseth, indeed, that God is in heaven, but that his 
power, or a force derived from him, doth actuate and 
pervade the universe. 

168. If we may credit Plutarch, Empedocles thought 
ether or heat to be Jupiter. Ether by the ancient 
philosophers was used to signify promiscuously some- 
times fire and sometimes air. For they distinguish two 
sorts of air. Plato in the Timaeus, speaking of air, saith 
there are two kinds, the one more fine and subtile, called 
ether, the other more gross and replete with vapours. 
This ether or purer medium seems to have been the 
air or principle, from which all things according to An- 
aximenes derived their birth, and into which they were 
*beck again resolved at their death. Hippocrates jn his 
treatise De Diaeta, speaketh of a fire pare and invisible ; 
and this fire, according to him, is that which, stirring 
and giving movement to all things, causes then) to ap- 

•StcttS* 

VOL. III. Z 



390 SIRI8* 

pear, or, as he styles it, come into evidence, that is, to 
exist, every one in its time and according to its de* 
stiny. 

169. This pure fire, ether, or substancfe of light, wan 
accounted in itself invisible and imperceptibje to all our 
senses, being perceived only by its effects, such as heat, 
flame, and rarefaction. To which we may add, that 
the moderns pretend farther to have perceived it by 
weight, inasmuch as the aromatic oils which most 
abound with fire, as being the most readily and vehe- 
mently inflamed, are above all others the heaviest. And 
by an experiment of Mr. Homberg's, four ounces of 
regulus of antimony, being calcined by a burning-glasf 
for an hour together, were found to have imbibed and 
fixed seven drachms of the substance of light. 

170. Such is the rarefying and expansive force of 
this element, as to produce, in an instant of time, the 
greatest and most stupendous effects : a sufficient proof 
not only of the power of fire, but also of the wisdom witb. 
which it is managed, and withheld from bursting forth 
every moment to the utter ravage and destruction of 
all things. And it is very remarkable, that this same 
element, so fierce and destructive, should yet be so vari- 
ously tempered and applied, as to be withal the salutary 
warmth, the genial, cherishing, and vital flame, of all lin- 
ing creatures. It is not therefore to be wondered that 
Aristotle thought, the heat of a living body to be some- 
what Divine and celestial, derived from that pure ether 
to which he supposed the incorporeal Deity (x*^wov «- 
&*) to be immediately united, or on which he supposed 
it immediately to act. 

171. The Platonists held that intellect resided in 
soul, and soul in an ethereal vehicle. And that as the 
soul was a middle nature reconciling intellect with 
ether, so ether was another middle nature, which re- 
conciled and connected the soul with grosser bodies.* 

• Sect. 152. 154. 



SURIS. 3&1 

Galen likewise taught that, admitting the soul to be in- 
corporeal, it hath for its immediate tegument or vehicle 
a body of ether or fire, by the intervention whereof k 
moveth, other bodies and is mutally affected by them. 
This interior clothing was supposed to remain upon the 
soul, not only after death, but after the most perfec pur- 
gation, which in length of time, according to the follow- 
ers of Plato and Pythagoras, cleansed the soul, 

— purumque reliquit 

JEthereum sensum atque aurai aimplitis ignem. 

This tunicle of the soul, whether it be called pure ether, 
or luciform vehicle, or animal spirit, seemeth to be that 
which moves and acts upon the gross organs, as it is 
determined by the soul from which it immediately re- 
ceives impression, and in which the moving force truly 
and properly resides. Some moderns have thought fit 
to deride all that is said of ethereal vehicles, as mere 
jargon or words without a meaning. But they should 
have considered, that all speech concerning the soul is 
altogether, or for the most part, metaphorical ; and 
that, agreeably thereunto, Plato speaketh of the mind 
or soul, as a driver that guides and governs a chariot, 
which is, not unfitly, styled avyoa&t, a luciform ethe- 
real vehicle or o^if/ui, terms expressive of the purity, 
lightness, subtilty, and mobility, of that fine celestial na- 
ture, in which the soul immediately resides and operates. 
172. It was a tenet of the Stoics that the world was 
an animal, and that Providence answered to the reason- 
able soul in man. But then the Providence or mind 
was supposed by them, to be immediately resident or 
present in fire, to dwell therein, and to act thereby. 
Briefly, they conceived God to be an intellectual and 
fiery spirit, vvtvpa vocpov kcu irufxtf&c. Therefore though 
they looked on fire as the to fjyqiovucov,* or governing 
principle of the world ; yet it was not simply fire, but ani- 
mated with a mind. 

• Sect. 166. 
z 2 



332 Stiiis. 

■ • • 

1J>3. Such are the bright and livfely tfgMttires of k 
Divine mind, operating and displaying itefetf m fire arid 
fight throughout the world, that as Aristotle observes 
in his book De Mundo, all things seem full of divinities, 
whose apparitions oil all sides strike and dazzle our eyes. 
And it must be owned the chief philosophers and wise 
men of antiquity, how touch soever they attributed to se- 
cond causes and the force of fire, yet they supposed & 
mind or intellect always resident therein, active or pro- 
vident, restraining its force and directing its operations. 

174. Thus Hippocrates in his treatise De Diaeta, 
speaks of a Strong but invisible fire,* that rules all 
things without noise. Herein, saith he, reside Soul, 
understanding, prudence, growth, motion, diminution, 
change, sleep, and waking. This is what governs all 
things, and is never in repose. And the same author, 
in his tract De Carnibus, after a serious preface setting 
forth that he is about to declare his own opinion, ex- 
pressed! it in these terms. That which we call heat, 
^epjuov, appears to me something immortal, which under- 
stands all things, which sees and knows both what is 
present and what is to come. 

175. This same heat is also what Hippocrates calls 
nature, the Author of life and death, good and evil. It is 
farther to be noted of this heat, that he maketh it the 
object of no sense. It is that occult universal nature, 
and inward invisible force, which actuates and animates 
the whole world, and was worshipped by the ancients 
under the name of Saturn ; which Vossius judges not 
improbably to be derived from the Hebrew word sator, 
to lie hidden or concealed. And what hath been de- 
livered by Hippocrates, agrees with the notions of other 
philosophers : Heraclitus,| for instance, who held fire 
to be the principal and cause of the generation of all 
things, did not mean thereby an inanimate element, 
but, as he termed it, n-up ae'^wov, an everlasting fire. 

* Sect. 168. + Sect. 157. 



sibis. 339 

-. J70t Theophr^stus, in his book De Igne distin- 
guisheth between heat and fire. The first he considers 
as a principle or cause, not that which appeareth to sense 
as a passion or accident existing in a subject, and which 
i$ in truth the effect of that unseen principle. And it 
is remarkable, that he refers the treating of this invisible 
fire or heat, to the investigation of the first causes. Fire 
the principle, is neither generated nor destroyed, is 
every where and always present :* while its effects 
ii> different times and places shew themselves more or 
less, and are very various, soft and cherishing, or vio- 
lent and destructive, terrible or agreeable, conveying 
good and evil, growth and decay, life and death, through* 
out the mundane system. 

177- It is allowed by all, that the Greeks derived 
ipuch of their philosophy from the eastern nations. 
And Heraclitus is thought by some to have drawn his 
principles from Orpheus, as Orpheus did from the 
Egyptians ; or, as others write, he had been auditor of 
tjippasus, a Pythagorean, who held the same notion of 
fire, and might have derived it from Egypt by his 
roaster Pythagoras, who had travelled into Egypt, and 
been instructed by the sages of that nation. One of whose 
tenets it was, that fire was the principle of all actio?) ;, 
which is agreeable to the doctrine of the Stoics, that 
the whole of things is administered by a fiery intellec- 
tual spirit. In the Asclepian Dialogue, we find this no- 
tion that all parts of the world vegetate by a fine subtile 
ether, which acts as an engine or instrument, subject 
to ttiQ will of the supreme God. 

17.8. As the Plajtonists held intellect to be lodged 
Jn spu}, and soul in ether ;f so it passeth for a doctrine 
pf Trispiegi^tus in the Pimander, that mind is clothed 
by soul, and soul by spirit. Therefore as the ani- 
mal spirit of ipan, being subtile and luminous, is the 
immediate tegument of the human soul, or that where* 

♦Sect. 157. tSect. 171. 



334 Sims. 

. . . 

in and whereby she acts ; even so the spirit of the world, 
that active fiery ethereal substance of light, that per- 
meates and animates the whole system, is supposed to 
' clothe the soul, which clothes the mind of the universe. 

179. The magi likewise said of God, that he had 
light for his body and truth for his soul. And in the 
Chaldaic oracles, all things are supposed to be govern- 
ed by arvp vocpov, or intellectual fire. And in the same 
oracles, the creative mind is said to be clothed with fire : 
ccrcm/^voc rnif cirvp, which oriental reduplication of the word 
fire seems to imply the extreme purity and force thereof. 
Thus also in the Psalms, " Thou art clothed with light 
las with a garment." Where the word rendered light 
might have been rendered fire, the Hebrew letters being 
the same with those in the word which signifies fire, all 
the difference being in the pointing, which is justly 
counted a late invention. That other Scripture sen- 
tence is remarkable: "who maketh his ministers a 
flaming fire :" which might, perhaps, be rendered more 
agreeably to the context, as well as consistently with the 
Hebrew, after this manner : <c who maketh flaming fire 
his ministers :" and the whole might run thus : " who 
maketh the winds his messengers, and flaming fire his 
ministers." 

180. A notion of something Divine in fire, animat- 
ing the whole world, and ordering its several parts, 
was a tenet of very general extent,* being embraced in 
the most distant times and places, even among the Chi- 
nese themselves; who make den, ether, or heaven, 
the sovereign principle or cause of all things, and teach 
that the celestial virtue, by them called /1, when joined 
to a corporeal substance, doth fashion, distinguish, 
and specificate, all natural beings. This li of the Chi- 
nese seems to answer the forms of the Peripatetic^: and 
both bear analogy to the foregoing philosophy of fire* 

* Sect. 156, 157. 163. 166, 167, 168. 17a 172, 173, 174, 175. 
177, &c. 



SIMS. fl36 

" ' • • • » » 

iSl. The heaven is supposed pregnant with virtues 
and forms which constitute and discriminate the various 
species of things. And we have more than once ob- 
served, that as the light, fire, or celestial ether, being 
parted by refracting or reflecting bodies, produceth 
variety of colours ; even so, that same apparently uni- 
form substance being parted and secreted by the attract- 
ing and repelling powers of the divers secretory ducts of 
plants and animals, that is, by natural chemistry, pro- 
duceth or imparteth the various specific properties of 
natural bodies. Whence the tastes and odours and me- 
dicinal virtues so various in vegetables. 

182. The lien is considered and adored by the 
learned Chinese, as living and intelligent ether, the 
jvp vmpov of the Chaldeans and the Stoics. . And the 
worship of things celestial, the sqn and stars* among 
the eastern nations less remote, was on account- of their 
fiery nature, their heat and light, and the influence 
thereof. Upon these accounts, the sun was looked on 
by the Greek theologers as the spirit of the world, and 
the power of the world. * The cleansing quality, the 
light and heat of fire, are natural symbols of' purity, 
knowledge, and power, or, if I may so say, the things 
themselves so far as they are perceptible to our senses; 
or in the same sense as motion is said to be action. 
Accordingly, we find a religious regard was paid ' to fire, 
both by Greeks and Romans, and indeed by most, if not 
all, the nations of the world. - 

183. The worship of Vesta at Rome was, in truth, 
the worship of fire. 

Nee tu aliod .Vestam quam vivaip intellige flammam, 

saitti Ovid in his Fasti. . And as in old Roifte the eter- 
nal fire was religiously kept by ' virgins, so in Greece, 
particularly at Delphi and Athens, it was kept by widows. 
It is well known that Vulcan or fire was worshipped 
with great distinction by the Egyptians. The Zabii or 



336 $ibi8« 

Sabeans are also known to have been worshippers of 
fire. It appears too, from the Chaldean oracles, that 
fire was regarded as Divine by the sages of that nation* 
And it is supposed that Ur of the Chaldeans was so 
called from the Hebrew word signifying fire, because 
fire was publicly worshipped in that city. That a reli- 
gious worship was paid to fire by the ancient Persians 
and their magi, is attested by all antiquity. And the 
sect of Persees, or old gentiles, of whom there are 
considerable remains at this day both in the Mogul's 
country and in Persia, doth testify the same. 

184. It doth not seem that their prostrations before 
the perpetual fires, preserved with great care in their 
pyrcia, or fire temples, were merely a civil respect, as 
Dr. Hyde would have it thought. Although be brings 
good proof that they do not invoke the fire on their 
altars, or pray to it, or call it God : and that they ac- 
knowledge a supreme invisible Deity. Civil respects are 
paid to things as related to civil power : but such rela- 
tion doth not appear in the present case. It should 
seem therefore, that they worship God as present in the 
fire, which they worship or reverence not ultimately or 
for itself, but relatively to the supreme Being. Which 
it is not unlikely was elsewhere the case at first ; though 
the practice of men, especially of the vulgar, might in 
length of time degenerate from the original institution, 
and rest in the object of sense. 

185. Doctor Hyde, in his History of the Religion of 
the Ancient Persians, would have it thought, that they 
borrowed the use and reverence of perpetual fires, from 
the Jewish practice prescribed in the Levitical law, of 
keeping a perpetual fire burning on the altar. Whether 
that was the case or not, thus much one may venture to 
say : it seems probable, that, whatever was the original of 
this custom among the Persians, the like customs among 
the Greek* and Romans were derived from the same 
source. 



sims. 39? 

186. It must be owned there are many passages in 
Holy Scripture, that would make one think the su- 
preme Being was in a peculiar manner present and ma- 
nifest in the element of fire.* Not to insist that God 
is more than once said to be a consuming fire, which 
might be understood in a metaphorical sense, the Divine 
apparitions were by fire, in the bush, at Mount Sinai, on 
the tabernacle, in the cloven tongues. God is repre- 
sented in the inspired writings, as descending in fire, as 
attended by fire, or with fire going before him. Celes- 
tial things, as angels, chariots, and such-like phenomena, 
are invested with fire, light, and splendour. Ezekiel in 
his visions beheld fire and brightness, lamps, burning 
coqls of fire, and flashes of lightning. In a vision of 
Daniel, the throne of God appeared like a fiery flame, 
and his wheels like burning fire. Also a fiery flame issued 
and came forth from before him. 

187* At the transfiguration, the apostles saw our 
Saviour's face shining as the sun, and his raiment white 
as light, also a lucid cloud Or body of light, out of which 
the voice came ; which visible light and splendour were* 
not many centuries ago, maintained by the Greek 
church to have been Divine, and uncreated, and the very 
glpry of God ; as may be seen in the history wrote by 
the Emperor John Cantacuzene. And of late years 
Bishop Patrick gives it as his opinion, that in the be- 
ginning of the world, the Shecbinah or Divine presence, 
which was then frequent and ordinary, appeared by light 
or fire. In commenting on that passage, where Cain is 
said to have gone out from the presence of the Lord, the 
Bishop observes, that if Cain after this turned a down- 
right idolater, as many think, it is very likely he intro- 
duced the worship of the sun, as the best resemblance 
he oould find of the glory of the Lord, which was wont 
to appear in a flaming light It would be endless to 
enumerate all the passages of Holy Scripture, which 

• Sect. 179. 



. 338 siris, 

confirm and illustrate this notion, or represent the Deity 
as appearing and operating by fire. The misconstruc- 
tion of which might possibly hare misled the Gnostics, 
Basilidians, and other ancient heretics, into an opinion, 
that Jesus Christ was the visible corporeal sun. 

188. We have seen, that in the most remote ages 
and countries, the vulgar as well as the learned, the in- 
stitutions of lawgivers, as well as the reasonings of phi- 
losophers, have ever considered the element of fire in a 
peculiar light, and treated it with more than common 
regard, as if it were something of a very singular and 
extraordinary nature. Nor are there wanting authors 
of principal account among the moderns, who entertain 
like notions concerning fire, especially among those who 
are most conversant in that element, and should seem 
best acquainted with it. 

1 89. Mr. Homberg, the famous modern chemist, who 
brought that art to so great perfection, holds the sub- 
stance of light or fire to be the true chemic principle 
sulphur,* and to extend itself throughout the whole uni- 
verse. It is his opinion that this is the only active 
principle. That mixed with various things it formeth 
several sorts of natural productions. With salts making 
oil, with earth bitumen, with mercury metal. That this 
principle of sulphur, fire, or the substance of light, is in 
itself impercepticle, and only becomes sensible as it is 
joined with some other principle, which serves as a 
vehicle for it. That, although it be the most active of 
all things, yet it is at the same time the most firm bond 
and cement to combine and hold the principles together, 
and give form to the mixed bodies. And, that in the 
analysis of bodies it is always lost, escaping the skill of 
the artist, and passing through the closest vessels. 

1 90. Boerhaave, Niewenty't, and divers other mo- 
derns, are in the same way of thinking. They with the 
ancients distinguish a pure elementary invisible fire 

* Sect. 129. 



Sims. ~ 399 

from the culinary, or that which appears in ignited 
bodies-.* This last they will not allow to be pure fire. 
The pure fire is to be discerned by its effects alone'; 
such as heat, dilatation of all solid bodies, and rarefac- 
tion of fluids, the segregating heterogeneous bodies, 
and congregating those that are homogeneous. That 
therefore which smokes and flames is not pure fire, but 
that which is collected in the focus of a concave mirror 
or burning-glass. This fire seems the source of all the 
operations in nature : without it nothing either vege- 
tates or putrefies, lives or moves or ferments, is dis- 
solved or compounded or altered, throughout this whole 
natural world in which we subsist. Were it not for 
this, the whole would be one great stupid inanimate 
mass. But this active element is supposed to be every 
where, and always present, imparting different degrees 
of life, heat, and motion, to the various animals, vege- 
tables, and other natural productions, as well as to the 
elements themselves, wherein they are produced and 
nourished. 

191. As water acts upon salt, or aqua fortis upon 
iron, so fire dissolves all other bodies. Fire, air, and 
water, are all three menstruums : but the two last seem 
to derive all their force and activity from the firstf And 
indeed there seems to be, originally or ultimately, but 
one menstruum in nature, to which all other menstru- 
ums may be reduced. Acid salts are a menstruum, but 
their force and distinct powers are from sulphur. Con- 
sidered as pure, or in themselves, they are all of the 
same nature. But, as obtained by distillation, they are 
constantly joined with some sulphur, which charac- 
terized and cannot be separated from it. This is the 
doctrine of Monsieur Homberg. But what is it that 
characterized or differenceth the sulphurs themselves ? 
If sulphur be the substance of light, as that author will 
have it, whence is it that animal, vegetable, and metallic 

* Sect. 163. 166. t Sect. 149. 



340 sibis. 

sulphurs, impart different qualities to the same acid salt 3 
Can this be explained upon Homberg's principles ? An4 
are we not obliged to suppose, that light separated by 
the attracting and repelling powers in the strainers, 
ducts, and pores, of those bodies, doth form several 
distinct kinds of sulphur, all which, before such sepa- 
ration, were lo6t and blended together, in one common 
mass of light or fire, seemingly homogeneous ? 

1Q2. In the analysis of inflammable bodies, the fixe 
or sulphur is lost, and the diminution of weight sheweth 
the loss.* Oil is resolved into water, earth, and salt, 
none of which is inflammable. But the fire or vinculum 
which connected those things, and gave the form of 
oil, escapes from the artist. It disappears but is not 
destroyed. Light or fire imprisoned made part of" the 
compound, gave union to the other parts, and form to 
the whole. But having escaped, it mingles with the 
general ocean of ether, till being again parted and at- 
tracted, it enters and specificates some new subject of the 
animal, vegetable, or mineral kingdom. Fire therefore 
in the sense of philosophers is always fire, though not 
always flame. 

1Q3. Solar fire or light, in calcining certain bodies, 
is observed to add to their weight. There is therefore 
no doubt but light can be fixed, and enter the compo- 
sition of a body. And though it should lie latent for a 
long time, yet, being set free from its prison, it shall 
still shew itself to be fire. Lead, tin, or regulus of 
antimony, being exposed to the fire of a burning-glass, 
though they lose much in smoke and steam, are never- 
less found to be considerably increased in weight, which 
proves the introduction of light or fire into their pores. 
It is also observed, that urine produceth no phosphorus, 
unless it be long exposed to the solar light. From all 
which it may be concluded, that bodies attract and fix 
the light, whence it should seem, as some have observed, 

* Sect. 169. 



SIRIS. 

that fire without burning is an ingredient in many things, 
a* Water without Wetting. 

194. Of this there cannot be a better proof, than 
the experiment of Monsieur Homberg, who made gold 
of tnfercury by introducing light into its pores, but at 
such trouble and expense, that I suppose nobody will 
try the experiment for profit. By this injunction of 
light and mercury, both bodies became fixed, and pro- 
duced a third different from either, to wit, real gold. 
For the truth of which fact, I refer to the Memoirs of 
the French Academy of Sciences. From the foregoing . 
experiment it appears, that gold is only a mass of mer- 
cury penetrated and cemented by the substance of light, 
the particles of those bodies attracting and fixing each 
other. This seems to have been not altogether un- 
known to former philosophers, Marcilius Ficintis the 
Platonist, in his commentary on the first book of the 
second jEneid of Plotinus, and others likewise before 
him, regarding mercury as the mother and sulphur as 
the father of metals ; and Plato himself in his Timaeus 
describing gold, to be a dense fluid' with a shining yel- 
low light, which well suits a composition of light and 
mercury. 

195. Fire or light mixeth with all bodies,* even 
with water ; witness the flashing lights in the sea, 
whose waves seem frequently all on fire. Its operations 
are various according to its kind, quantity, and degree 
of vehemence. One degree keeps water fluid, another 
turns it into elastic air.f And air itself seems to be 
nothing else bat vapours and exhalations, rendered 
elastic by fire. Nothing flames but oil : and sulphur 
with water, salt, and earth, compose oil, which sulphur 
is fire : therefore fire enclosed attracts fire, and causeth 
the bodies whose composition it enters to burn and 
blaze. 

196. Fire collected in the focus of a glass operates 

• Sect 157. + Sect. 149. 



342 sibis. 

in vacuo, and therefore is thought not to need air to 
support it. Calx of lead hath gone. off with an explo- 
sion in vacuo, which Niewenty't and others take for a 
proof that fire can burn without air. But Mr. Hales attri- 
butes this effect to air enclosed in the red lead, and per- 
haps too in the receiver, which cannot be perfectly ex- 
hausted. When common lead is put into the fire in 
order to make red lead, a greater weight of this comes 
out than was put in of common lead. Therefore the 
red lead should seem impregnated with fire. Mr. Hales 
.thinks it is with air. The vast expansion of compound 
aqua fortis, Mr. Niewenty't will have to proceed from 
fire alone. Mr. Hales contends that air must neces- 
sarily co-operate. Though by NiewentyVs experiment 
it should seem, the phosphorus burns equally with and 
without air. 

1()7. Perhaps they who hold the opposite sides in 
this question, may be reconciled by observing that air is 
in reality nothing more than particles of wet and dry 
bodies volatilized and rendered elastic by fire.* What- 
ever, therefore, is done by air must be ascribed to fire, 
which fire is a subtile invisible thig, whose operation 
is not to be discerned but by means of some grosser 
body, which serves not for a pabulum to nourish the 
fire, but for a vehicle to arrest and bring it into view. 
Which seems the sole use of oil, air, or any other thing, 
that vulgarly passeth for a pabulum or food of that 
element. 

198. To explain this matter more clearly, it is to be 
observed, that fire, in order to become sensible, must 
have some subject to act upon. This being penetrated 
and agitated by fire affects us with light, heat, or some 
other sensible alteration. And this subject so wrought 
upon may be called culinary fire. In the focus of a 
burning-glass opposed to the sun, there is real actual fire, 
though not discerned by the sense till it hath somewhat 

* Sect. 147. 150, 151. 



sibis. 343 

to work on, and can shew itself in its effects, heating, 
flaming, melting, and the like. Every ignited body is, 
in the foregoing sense, culinary fire. But it will not 
therefore follow, that it is convertible into pure ele- 
mentary fire* This, for aught that appears, may be inge- 
nerable and incorruptible by the course of nature. It 
may be fixed and imprisoned in a compound,* and yet 
retain its nature, though lost to sense, and though it 
return into the invisible elementary mass, upon the 
analysis of the compounded body : as is manifest in the 
solution of stone lime by water. 

199. It should seem, therefore, that what is said of. 
air's being the pabulum of fire, or being converted into 
fire, ought to be understood only in this sense ; to wit, 
that air, being less gross than other bodies, is of a mid- 
dle nature, and therefore more fit to receive the im- 
pressions of a fine ethereal fire,f and impart them to 
other things. According to the ancients, soul serveth 
for a vehicle to intellect,;}; and light or fire for a vehicle 
to the soul ; and, in like manner, air may be supposed 
a vehicle to fire, fixing it in some degree, and commu- 
nicating its effects to other bodies. 

200. The pure invisible fire or ether doth permeate 
all bodies, even the hardest and most solid, as the dia- 
mond. This alone, therefore, cannot, as some learned 
men have supposed, be the cause of muscular motion, 

m by a mere impulse of the nerves communicated from 
the brain to the membranes of the muscles, and there- 
by to the enclosed ether, whose expansive motion, being 
by that means increased, is thought to swell the mus- 
cles and cause a contraction of the fleshy fibres. This* 
it should seem, the pure ether cannot do immediately 
and of itself, because, supposing its expansive motion to 
be increased, it must still pass through the membranes, 
and consequently not swell them, inasmuch as ether 
is supposed freely to pervade the most solid bodies: It 

* Sect 169. 192, 193. f Sect. 163. J Sect. 178. 



344 9i*i*. 

should deem therefore that this effect must be owing, 
not to pare ether, but to ether in som& pert fixed and 
arrested by the particles of air. 

201. Although this ethef be extremely elastic, yet 
as it is sometimes found by experience to be attracted, 
imprisoned, and detained in gross bodies,* so we may 
suppose it to be attracted, and its expansive force dimi- 
nished, though it should not be quite fixed, by the loose 
particles of air, which combining and cohering therewith 
fray bring it down, and qualify it for intercourse with 
grosser things. Pure fire may be said to animate air, 
and! air other things. Pure fire is invisible j therefore 
flame is not pure fire. Air is necessary both to life and 
flame. And it is found by experiment, that air kweth 
m the lungs the power of feeding flame* Hence it is 
concluded, that the same thing in air contributes both 
to life and flame. Vital flame survives culinary flame 
in vacuo : therefore it requires less of that thing to 
sustain it. ~ 

202. What this may be, whether some certain pro- 
portion, or some peculiar parts, of ether, is not easy to 
say. But thus much seems plain, that whatever is as- 
cribed to acid may be also ascribed to fire or ether. 
The particles of ether fly asunder with the greatest 
force : therefore, agreeably to Sir Isaac Newton's doc- 
trine, when united they must attract ' each other with 
the greatest force. Therefore they constitute the acid. 
For whatsoever strongly attracts and is attracted, may 
be called an acid, as Sir Isaac Newton informs us in his 
tract De Acido. Hence it should seem that the sulphur 
of Homberg and the acid of Sir Isaac are at bottom one 
and the same thing, to wit, pure fire or ether. 

203. The vital flame fer ethereal spirit, being at- 
tracted and imprisoned in grosser bodies, seemeth to 
be set free and carried off, by the superior attraction of 
a subtile and pure flame. Hence, perhaps it is, that 

•Sect, 169. 



SIHI8. S45 

f 

lightning kills animals, and turns spirituous liquors 
vapid in an instant. 

204. Hippocrates in his book concerning the heart 
observeth, that the soul of man is not nourished by 
meats and drinks from the lower belly, but by a pure 
and luminous substance darting its rays, and distribut- 
ing a non-natural nourishment, as he terms it, in like 
manner as that from the intestines is distributed to all 
parts of the body. This luminous non-natural nourish- 
ment, though it be secreted from the blood, is expressly 
said not to come from the lower belly. It is plain, there- 
fore, • he thought it came into the blood, either by re- 
spiration, or by attraction through the pores. And it 
must be acknowledged, that somewhat igneous or ethe- 
real brought by the air into the blood seems to nourish, 
though not the soul itself, yet the interior tunicle of the 
soul, the aurai simplicis ignem. 

205. That there is really such a thing as vital flame, 
actually kindled, nourished, and extinguished, like com- 
mon flame, and by the same means, is an opinion of 
some moderns, particularly of Dr. Willis in his tract 
De Sanguinis Accensione: that it requires constant evan- 
tilation, through the trachsea and pores of the body for 
the discharge of a fuliginous and excrementitious va- 
pour ; and that this vital flame, being extremely subtile, 
might not be seen any more than shining flies or ignes t 

fatui by daylight. And yet it hath sometimes become **, , ' 
visible on divers persons, of which there are undoubted ^'* 
instances. This is Dr. Willis's notion ; and perhaps '' <c 
there may be some truth in this, if it be so understood, 
as that light or fire might indeed constitute the animal 
spirit or immediate vehicle of the soul. 

206. There have not been wanting those, who, not 
content to suppose light the most pure and refined of 
all corporeal beings, have gone farther, and bestowed 
upon it some attributes of a yet higher nature. Juli- 
anus the Platonic philosopher, as cited by Ficinus, saith 

VOL. III. 2 A 



340 SIRI9. 

it was a doetrine in the theology of the Phoenicians, 
that there is diffused throughout the universe a pel- 
lucid and shining nature pure and impassive, the act of 
a pure intelligence. And Ficinus himself undertakes 
to prove, that light is incorporeal, by several argu- 
ments : because it enlightens and fills a great space in 
an instant, and without opposition : because several 
lights meet without resisting each other: because 
light cannot be defiled by filth of any kind ; because 
the solar light is not fixed in any subject : lastly, be- 
cause it contracts and expands itself so easily without 
collision, condensation, rarefaction, or delay, through- 
out the'vastest space. These reasons are given by Fi- 
cinus, in his comment on the first book of the second 
JEneid of Plotinus. 

207* But it is now well known, that light moves, 
and that its motion is not instantaneous : that it is ca- 
pable of condensation, rarefaction, and collision : that 
it can be mixed with other bodies, enter their composi- 
tion, and increase their weight.* All which seems suf- 
ficiently to overthrow those arguments of Ficinus, and 
shew light to be corporeal. There appears indeed some 
difficulty at first sight, about the nonresistance of rays 
or particles of light occurring one to another, in all 
possible directions or from all points. Particularly, 
if we suppose the hollow surface of a large sphere, 
studded with eyes looking inwards one at another, it 
may perhaps seem hard to conceive, how distinct rays 
from every eye should arrive at every other eye without 
justling, repelling, and confounding each other. 

208. But these difficulties may be got over by con- 
sidering, in the • first place, that visible points are not 
mathematical points, and consequently that we are not 
to suppose every point of space a radiating point. Se- 
condly, by granting that many rays do resist and inter- 
cept each other, notwithstanding which the act of vision 

• Sect. 169. 192, 19S. 



siris. 347 

may be performed. Since as every point of the object 
is not seen, so it is not necessary that rays from every 
such point arrive at the eye. We often see an object, 
though more dimly, when many rays are intercepted 
by a gross medium. 

209. Besides, we may suppose the particles of light 
to be indefinitely small, that is, as small as we please, 

1 and their aggregate to bear as small a proportion to the 
% void as we please, there being nothing in this that con- 
tradicts the phenomena. And there needs nothing 
more, in order to conceive the possibility of rays passing 
from and to all visible points, although they be not in- 
corporeal. Suppose a hundred ports placed round a 
circular sea, and ships sailing from each port to every 
other ; the larger the sea, and the smaller the vessels are 
supposed, the less danger will there be of their striking 
against each other. But as there is by hypothesis no 
limited proportion between the sea and the ships, the 
void and solid particles of light, so there is no difficulty 
that can oblige us to conclude the sun's light incor- 
poreal from its free passage ; especially when there are so 
many clear proofs of the contrary. As for the difficulty, 
therefore, attending the supposition of a sphere studded 
with eyes looking at each other, this is removed only 
by supposing the particles of light exceeding small rela- 
tively to the empty spaces. 

210. Plotinus supposeth, that from the sun's light 
which is corporeal, there springs forth another equivo- 
cal light which is incorporeal, and as it were the bright- 
ness of the former. Marcilius Ficinus also observing 
it to be the doctrine of the Timaeus of Plato, that there 
is an occult fire or spirit diffused throughout the uni- 
verse, intimates that this same occult invisible fire or 
light is, as it were, the sight of the mundane soul. And 
Plotinus in his fourth JEneid sheweth it to be his opi- 
nion, that the world seeth itself and all its parts. The 
Platonic philosophers do wonderfully refine upon light, 

2A2 



348 siris. 

and soar very high : from coal to flame; from flame to 
light : from this viable light to the occult light of the 
celestial or mundane soul, which they supposed to 
pervade and agitate the substance of the universe by its 
vigorous and expansive motion. 

ail. If we may believe Diogenes Laertius, the Py- 
thagorean philosophers thought there was a certain 
pure heat or fire, which had somewhat Divine in it, by 
the participation whereof men became allied to the 
gods. And according to the Platonists, heaven is not 
defined so much by its local situation, as by its purity. 
The purest and most excellent fire, that is heaven, saith 
Ficinus. And again, the hidden fire that every where 
exerts itself, he calls celestial. He represents fire as most 
powerful and active, dividing all things, abhorring all 
composition or mixture with other bodies. And, as 
soon as it gets free, relapsing instantly into the common 
mass of celestial fire, which is every where present and 
latent* 

212. This is the general source of life, spirit, and 
strength, and therefore, of health to all animals, who 
constantly receive its illapses clothed in air, through 
the lungs and pores of the body. The same spirit im- 
prisoned in food and medicines, is conveyed into the 
stomach, the bowels, the lacteals, circulated and se- 
creted by the several ducts, and distributed throughout 
the system.* Plato in his Timseus, enumerating the ig- 
nited juices, names wine in the first place, and tar in 
the second. But wine is pressed from the grape, and 
fermented by human industry. Therefore of all ignited 
juices purely natural, tar or resin must in his account 
be esteemed the first. 

213. The vivifying luminous ether exists in all 
places, even the darkest caverns, as is evident from 
hence, that many animals see in those dark places, and 
that fire may be kindled in them by the collision or attri- 

* Sect. 37. 42. 44. 



sibis. 349 

• ... 

tion of bodies. It is also known that certain persons 

have fits of seeing in the dark. Tiberius was said to 

have had this faculty or distemper. I myself knew an 

ingenious man who had experienced it several times in 

himself. And Dr. Wallis, in his tract De Sanguinis 

Accensione, mentions another of his own knowledge. 

This luminious ether or spirit is therefore said by 

Virgil, to nourish or cherish the innermost earth, as 

well as the heavens and celestial bodies. 

Frincipo caelum ac terras, caroposque liquentes. 
Lucentemque globum Lunee, Titaniaque astra 
Spiritii8 liviUB aJit. 

214. The principles of motion and vegetation in 
living bodies seem to be deliberations from the invisi- 
ble fire or spirit of the universe :* which, though pre- 
sent to all things, is not nevertheless one way received 
by all ; but variously imbibed, attracted, and secreted, 
by the fine capillaries, and exquisite strainers in the bo- 
dies of plants and animals, whereby it becomes mixed 
and detained in their juices. 

215. It hath been thought by some observers of na- 
ture) that the fine glandular vessels admit from the 
common mass of the blood, only such juices as are ho- 
mogeneous to those with which they were originally 
imbued. How they came to be so imbued doth not 
appear. But thus much is plain ; that fine tubes at- 
tract fluids, that the glands are fine tubes, and that they 
attract very different juices from the common mass. The 
same holds also with regard to the capillary vessels of ve- 
getables,t it being evident that through the fine strain- 
ers in the leaves and all over the body of the plant, there 
be juices or fluids of a particular kind drawn in, and se- 
parated from the common mass of air and light. And 
that the most elaborate spirit, whereon the character or 
distinguishing virtue and properties of the plant depend, 

* SccU 4* 157. 16*. 171. t Sect. 30, 31. 33. 35. 



350 siris. 

is of a luminous and volatile nature,* being lost or 
caping into air or ether, from essential oils and odorife- 
rous waters, without any sensible diminution of them. 

216. As different kinds of secreted light or fire pro- 
duce different essences, virtues, or specific properties, so 
also different degrees of heat produce different effects. 
Thus one degree of heat keeps the blood from coagulat- 
ing, and another degree coagulates the blood. Thus a 
more violent fire hath been observed to set free and 
carry off that very light, which a more moderate fire had 
introduced and fixed in the calcined regulus of antimony. 
In like manner, one kind or quantity of this ethereal 
fiery spirit may be congenial and friendly to the spirits 
of a man, while another may be noxious. 

217. And experience sheweth this to be true. For 
the fermented spirit of wine or other liquors produceth 
irregular motions, and subsequent depressions 'in the 
animal spirits. Whereas the luminoyrf spirit . lodged 
and detained in the native balsam of pines and firs, is of 
a < nature so mild and benign and proportioned to the 
human constitution, as to warm without heating, to 
cheer but not inebriate, and to produce a calm and 
steady joy like the effect of good news, without that sink- 
ing of spirits which is a subsequent effect of all fermented 
cordials. I may add, without all other inconvenience, 
except that it may like any other medicine be taken in 
too great a quantity for a nice stomach. In which case 
it may be right to lessen the dose, or to take it only 
once in the four-and-twenty hours, empty, going to bed 
(when it is found to be least offensive), or even to sus- 
pend the taking of it for a time, till nature shall seem to 
crave it, and rejoice in its benign and comfortable spirit, 

218. Tar water serving as a vehicle to this spirit is 
both diuretic and diaphoretic, but seems to work its 
principal effect by assisting the vis vit<e> as an alterative 
and cordial, enabling nature, by an accession of congenial 

* Sect. 37. 43. v 



smis. 351 

spirit, to assimilate that which could not be assimilated 
by her proper force, and so to subdue the fames morbi. 
And this should seem in most cases the best and safest 
course. Great evacuations weaken nature as well as the 
disease. And it is to be feared that they who use sali- 
vations and copious bleedings, may, though they should 
recover of the distemper, in their whole life be never 
able to recover of the remedies. 

219. It is true indeed, that in chronical cases there 
is no need of time to complete a cure, and yet I have 
known this tar water in disorders of the lungs and sto- 
mach to prove a very speedy remedy, and to allay the 
anxiety and heat of a fever in an instant, giving ease and 
spirits to the patient. This I have often experienced, 
not without surprise at seeing these salutary effects 
follow so immediately in a fever on taking a glass of tar 
water. Such is the force of these active vivifying prin- 
ciples contained in this balsam. 

220. Force or power, strictly speaking, is in the 
agent alone who imparts an equivocal force to the invi- 
sible elementary fire, or animal spirit of the world,* and 
this to the ignited body or visible flame, which produceth 
the sense of light and heat. In this chain the first and 
last links are allowed to be incorporeal : the two inter- 
mediate are corporeal, being capable of motion, rarefac- 
tion, gravity, and other qualities of bodies. It is fit to 
distinguish these things, in order to avoid ambiguity 

* concerning the nature of fire. 

221. Sir Isaac Newton, in his Optics, asks, Is not 
fire a body heated so hot as to emit light copiously ? for 
what else* adds he, is a red-hot iron than fire ? Now it 
should seem, that to define fire by heat, would be to ex- 
plain a thing by itself. A body heated so hot as to emit 
light is an ignited body, that is, hath fire in it, is pene- 
trated and agitated by fire,but is not itself fire. And al- 
though it should in the third foregoing acceptation, or 

• Sect. 153. 156, 157. 



352 sims. 

vulgar sense pass for fire, yet it is not the pure element- 
ary fire * in the second or philosophic sense, such as 
was understood by the sages of antiquity, and such 
as is collected fa the focus of a burning-glass ; much 
less is it the vis, force, or power of burning, destroying, 
calcining, melting, vitrifying, and raising the percep- 
tions of light and heat. This is truly and really in the in- 
corporeal agent, and not in the vital spirit of the uni- 
verse* Motion, and even power in an equivocal sense, 
may be found in this pure ethereal spirit, which ignites 
bodies, but is not itself the ignited body, being an instru- 
ment or medium by which the real agent doth operate 
on grosser bodies, f 

222. It hath been shewed in Sir Isaac Newton s Op- 
tics, that light is not reflected by impinging on bodies, 
but by some other cause. And to him it seems proba- 
ble, that as many rays as impinge on the solid parts of 
bodies, are not reflected but stifled and retained in the 
bodies. And it is certain, that great porosity of all 
known bodies affords room for much of this light or fire 
to be lodged therein. Gold itself, the most solid of all 
metals, seems to have far more pores than solid parts, 
from water being pressed through it in the Florentine 
experiment, from magnetic effluvia passing, and from 
mercury entering, its pores so freely. And it is admit- 
ted that water though impossible to be compressed hath 
at least forty times more pores than solid parts. And as 
acid particles, joined with those of earth in certain pro- 
portions, are so closely united with them as to be quite 
hid and lost to all appearance, as in mercurhu dukis and 
common sulphur, so also may we conceive the particles of 
light or fire to be absorbed and latent in grosser bodies. 

223. It is the opinion of Sir Isaac Newton, that 
somewhat unknown remains in vacuo, when the air is 
exhausted. This unknown medium he calls ether. He 
supposeth it to be more subtile in its nature, and more 

♦Sect. 100. + Sect 160. 



smis. 353 • 

swift in its motion, than light, freely to pervade all 
bodies, and by its immense elasticity to be expanded 
throughout all the heavens. Its density is supposed 
greater in free and open spaces, than within the pores of 
compact bodies. And, in passing from the celestial bodies 
to great distances, it is supposed to grow denser and denser 
continually; and thereby cause those great bodies to 
gravitate towards one another, and their respective parts 
towards their centres, every body endeavouring to pass 
from the denser parts of the medium towards the rarer. 
224. The extreme minuteness of the parts of this 
medium and the velocity of .their motion, together with 
its gravity, density, and elastic force, are thought to qua- 
lify it for being the cause of all the natural motions in 
the universe. To this cause are ascribed the gravity 
and cohesion of bodies. The refraction of light is also 
thought to proceed from the different density and elas- 
tic force of this ethereal medium in different places. 
The vibrations of this medium alternately concurring 
with, or obstructing the motions of the rays of light, 
are supposed to produce the fits of easy reflection and 
transmission. Light by the vibrations of this medium 
is thought to communicate heat to bodies. Animal 
motion and sensation are also accounted for by the vi- 
brating motions of this ethereal medium, propagated 
through the solid capillaments of the nerves. . In a 
word, all the phenomena and properties of bodies, that 
were before attributed to attraction, upon later thoughts 
seem ascribed to this ether, together with the various 
attractions themselves. 

225. But in the philosophy of Sir Isaac Newton, 
the fits (as they are called) of easy transmission and re- 
flection seem as well accounted for by vibrations excited 
in bodies by the rays of light ; and the refraction of light 
by the attraction of bodies. To explain the vibrations 
of light by those of a more subtile medium, seems an 
uncouth explication. And gravity seems not an effect 



354 siris. 

of the density and elasticity of ether, but rather to be pro- 
duced by some other cause : which Sir Isaac himself 
insinuates to have been the opinion even of those an- 
cients who took vacuum, atoms, and the gravity of atoms, 
for the principles of their philosophy, tacitly attribut- 
ing (as he well observes) gravity to some other cause 
distinct from matter, from atoms, and consequently 
from that homogeneous ether or elastic fluid. The 
elasticity of which fluid is supposed to depend upon, to 
be defined and measured by, its density ; and this by 
the quantity of matter in one particle, multiplied by the 
number of particles contained in a given space ; and the 
quantity of matter in any one particle to be determined 
by its gravity. Should not therefore gravity seem the 
original property and first supposed ? On the other hand, 
if force be considered as prescinded from gravity and 
matter, and as existing only in points or centres, what 
can this amount to but an abstract, spiritual, incorporeal 
force? 

226. It doth not seem necessary, from the pheno- 
mena, to suppose any medium more active and subtile 
than light or fire. Light being allowed to move at the 
rate of about ten millions of miles in a minute, what 
occasion is there to conceive another medium of still 
smaller and more moveable parts ? Light or fire seems 
the same with ether. So the ancients understood, and 
so the Greek word implies. It pervades all things,* is 
every where present. And this same subtile medium, 
according to its various quantities, motions, and determi- 
nations, sheweth itself in different effects or appear- 
ances, and is ether, light, or fire. 

227. The particles of ether fly asunder with the 
greatest force, therefore when united they must (accord- 
ing to the Newtonian doctrine) attract each other with 
the greatest force ; therefore they are acids or consti- 
tute the acid ;f but this united with earthy parts maketh 

• Sect. 157. f Sect. ISO. 



siris. 355 

alkali, as Sir Isaac teacheth in his tract De Acido ; alkali, 
as appears in cantharides and lixivial salts, is a caustic ; 
caustics are fire ; therefore acid is fire ; ' therefore ether 
is fire ; and if fire, light. We are not therefore obliged 
to admit a new medium distinct from light, and of a 
finer and more exquisite substance, for the explication of 
phenomena which appear to be as well explained with- 
out it. How can the density or elasticity of ether ac- 
count for the rapid flight of a ray of light from the sun, 
still swifter as it goes farther from the sun ? Or how 
can it account for the various motions and attractions of 
different bodies ? Why oil and water, mercury and iron, 
repel, or why other bodies attract each other ? Or why 
a particle of light should repel on one side and attract 
on the other, as in the case of the islandic crystal? 
To explain cohesion by hamate atoms is accounted ig- 
notum per ignotius. And is it not as much so to ac- 
count for the gravity of bodies by the elasticity of 
ether? 

228. It is one thing to arrive at general laws of na- 
ture from a contemplation of the phenomena ; and an- 
other to frame an hypothesis, and from thence deduce 
the phenomena. Those who suppose epicycles, and by 
them explain the motions and appearances of the planets, 
may not therefore be thought to have discovered prin- 
ciples true in fact and nature* And albeit we may from 
the premises infer a conclusion, it will not follow, that 
we can argue reciprocally, and from the conclusion infer 
the premises. For instance, supposing an elastic fluid, 
whose constituent minute particles are equidistant from 
each other, and of equal dehsities and diameters, and re- 
cede one from another with a centrifugal force which is 
inversely as the distance of the centres, and admitting 
that from such supposition it must follow, that the dens- 
ity and elastic force of such fluid are in the inverse' 
proportion of the space it occupies when compressed by 
any force ; yet we cannot reciprocally infer, that a fluid 



366, siris. 

endued with this property must therefore consist of 
such supposed equal particles : for it Would then follow, 
that the constituent particles of air were of equal den- 
sities and diameters ; whereas it is certain, that air ia 
an heterogeneous mass, containing in its composition 
an infinite variety of exhalations, from the different 
bodies which make up this terraqueous globe. 

22Q. The phenomena of light, animal spirit, rods* 
cular motipn, fermentation, vegetation, and other na- 
tural operations, seem to require nothing more than 
the intellectual and artificial fire of Heraclitus, Hippo- 
crates, the Stoics,* and other ancients. Intellect, super- 
added to ethereal spirit, fire, or light, moves, and moves 
regularly, proceeding, in a method, as the Stoics, or in* 
creasing and diminishing by measure, as Heraclitds ex- 
pressed it. The Stoics held that fire comprehended 
and included the spermatic reasons or forms (Aoyovc <mp- 
fian ko>us) of all natural things. As the forms of things 
have their ideal existence in the intellect, so it should 
seem that seminal principles have their natural, existence 
in the light,f a medium consisting of heterogeneous 
parts, differing from each other in divers qualities that 
appear to sense, and not improbably having many ori- 
ginal properties, attractions, repulsions, and motions, 
the laws and natures whereof are indiscernible to us, 
otherwise than in their remote effects. And this ani- 
mated heterogeneous fire should seem a more adequate 
cause, whereby to explain the phenomena of nature, 
than one uniform ethereal medium. 

230. Aristotle indeed excepts against the elements 
being animated. Yet nothing hinders why that power 
of the soul, styled by him Kivnracn or locomotive, may 
not reside therein, under the direction of an intellect, 
in such sense and as properly as it is said to reside in 
animal bodies. It must nevertheless be owned, that al- 
beit that philosopher acknowledged a Divine force or 

•Sect. 166. 168. tScct. 164% 



6IRI8. 967 

energy in fire, yet to say that fire is alive, or that havings 
& soul it should not be alive, seem to him equally absurds 
See his second book De Partibus Animatum. 

23 1. Hie laws of attraction and repulsion are to be 
regarded as laws of motion, and these only as rules or 
methods observed in the productions of natural effects, 
the efficient and final causes whereof are not of mecha- 
nical consideration. Certainly, if the explaining a phe- 
nomenon be to assign its proper efficient and final cause,* 
it should seem the mechanical philosophers never ex- 
plained any thing ; their province being only to discover 
the laws of nature, that is, the general rules and methods 
of motion, and to account for particular phenomena by 
reducing them under, or shewing their conformity to, 
such general rules. 

232. Some corpuscularian philosophers of the last 

age, have indeed attempted to, explain the formation of 

this world and its phenomena, by a few simple laws of 

mechanism. But if we consider the various productions 

of nature, in the mineral, vegetable, and animal parts 

of the creation, I believe we shall see cause to affirm, 

that not any one of them has hitherto been, or can be, 

accounted for on principles merely mechanical; and 

that nothing could be more vain and imaginary, than 

to suppose with Descartes, that merely from a circular 

motion's being impressed by the supreme Agent on the 

particles of extended substance, the whole world with 

all its several parts, appurtenances, and phenomena, 

might be produced, by a necessary consequence from 

the laws of motion. 

238. Others suppose that God did more at the be* 
ginning, having then made the seeds of all vegetables 
and animals, containing their 6olid organical parts m 
miniature, the gradual filling and evolution of which, 
by the influx of proper juices, doth constitute the gene- 
ration and growth of a living body. So that the arti- 

• • Sect. 154, 155. J6D. 



358 sibis. 

ficial structure . of plants and animals daily generated, 
requires no present exercise of art to produce it, having 
been already framed at the origin of the world, which 
with all its parts hath ever since subsisted, going like a 
clock or machine by itself, according to the laws of na- 
ture, without the immediate hand of the artist But 
how can this hypothesis explain the blended features of 
different species in mules and other mongrels ? or the 
parts added or changed, and sometimes whole limbs lost, 
by marking in the womb ? or how can it account for 
the resurrection of a tree from its stump, or the vege- 
tative power in its cuttings ? in which cases we must ne- 
cessarily conceive something more than the mere evolu- 
tion of a seed. 

234. Mechanical laws of nature or motion direct 
us how to act, and teach us what to expect. Where 
.intellect presides there will be method and order, and 
therefore rules, which if not stated and constant would 
cease to be rules. There is therefore a constancy in 
things, which is styled the course of nature.* All the 
phenomena in nature are produced by motion. There 
appears a uniform working in things great and small, 
by attracting and repelling forces. But the particular 
laws of attraction and repulsion are various. Nor are 
we concerned at all about the forces, neither can we 
know or measure them otherwise than by their effects, 
that is to say, the motions, which motions only, and not 
the forces, are indeed in the bodies.! Bodies are moved 
to or from each other, and this is performed according 
to different laws. The natural or mechanic philosopher 
endeavours to discover those laws by experiment and 
reasoning. But what is said of forces residing in bodies, 
whether attracting or repelling, is to be regarded only 
as a mechanical hypothesis, and not as any thing really 
existing in nature. 

235. We are not therefore seriously to suppose with 

* Sect. 160. t Sect. 155. 



siris. 359 

certain mechanic philosophers, that the minute particles 
of bodies have real forces or powers, by which they act 
on each other, to produce the various phenomena in 
nature. The minute corpuscles are impelled and di- 
rected, that is to say, moved to and from each other, 
according to various rules or laws of motion. The laws 
of gravity, magnetism, and electricity, are divers. An4 
it is not known, what other different rules or laws of 
motion might be established by the Author of nature. 
Some bodies approach together, others fly usunder, and 
perh&ps some others do neither. When salt of tartar 
flows per deliquium, it is visible that the particles of 
water floating in the air are moved towards the particles 
of salt, and joined with them. And when we behold 
vulgar salt not to flow per deliquium, may we not con- 
clude that the same law of nature and motion doth not 
obtain between its particles and those of the floating 
vapours ? A drop of water assumes a round figure, 
because its parts are moved towards each other. But 
the particles of oil and vinegar have no such disposition 
to unite. And when flies walk in water, without wet- 
ting their feet, *it is attributed to a repelling force or 
faculty in the flies' feet. But this is obscure, though 
the phenomenon be plain. 

236. It is not improbable, and seems not unsup- 
ported by experiments, that, as in algebra, where posi- 
tive quantities cease there negative begin, even so in 
mechanics, where attracting forces cease their repelling 
forces begin : or (to express it more properly) where bo- 
dies cease to be moved towards, they begin to be moved 
from, each other. This Sir Isaac Newton infers from 
the production of air and vapours, whose particles fly 
asunder with such vehement force. We behold iron 
move towards the loadstone, straws towards amber, 
heavy bodies towards the earth. The laws of these mo- 
tions are various. And when it is said, that all the 
motions and changes in the great world arise from at- 



$60 MRI8. 

traction ; the elasticity of the air, the motion of water, 
the descent of heavy, and the ascent of light bodied, 
being all ascribed to. the same principle ; when from in- 
sensible attractions of most minute particles at the 
smallest distance, are derived cohesion, dissolution, co- 
agulation, animal secretion, fermentation, and all che- 
mical operations; and when it is said, that without 
such principles there never would have been any mo- 
tion in the world, and without the continuance thereof 
all motion would cease ; in all this we know or under- 
stand no more, than that bodies are moved according 
to a certain order, and that they do not move them- 
selves. 

237. So'likewise, how to explain all those various 
motions ^nd effects, by the density and elasticity of 
ether, seems incomprehensible.* For instance, why 
should the acid particles draw those of water and repel 
each other ? Why should some salts attract vapours in 
the air, and others not ? Why should the particles of 
common salt repel each other, so as not to subside in 
water ? Why should the most repellent particles be the 
most attractive upon contact ? Or why should the re- 
pellent begin where the attractive faculty leaves off? 
These, and numberless other effects, seem inexplicable 
on mechanical principles, or otherwise than by recourse 
to a mind or spiritual agentf Nor will it suffice from 
present phenomena and effects, through a chain of na- 
tural causes and subordinate blind agents, to trace a 
Divine intellect as the remote original cause, that first 
created the world, and then set it a going. . We cannot 
make even one single step in accounting for the pheno- 
mena, without admitting the immediate presence and 
immediate action of an incorporeal agent, who connects, 
moves, and disposes all things, according to such rules, 
and for such purposes, as seem good to him. 

238. It is an old opinion adopted by the modems, 

• Sect. 153. 162. t Sact. 154.220. 



sjkis. 301 

that the elements and other natural bodies are changed 
^aeh into other.* Now, as the particles of different bodies 
are agitated by different forces, attracting and repelling, 
or, to speak more accurately, are moved by different 
laws, how can these forces or laws be changed, and this 
change accounted for by 1 an elastic ether ? Such a me- 
dium distinct from light or fire seemeth not to be made 
out by any proof, nor to be of any use in explaining the 
phenomena. But if there be any medium employed, as 
a subordinate cause or instrument in attraction, it would 
rather seem to be light ;f since by an experiment of 
Mr. Boyle's amber, that shewed no sign of attraction 
in the shade, being placed where the sunbeams shone 
upon it, immediately attracted light bodies. Besides, 
it hath been discovered by Sir Isaac Newton, and 
an admirable discovery it was, that light is an hete- 
rogeneous medium, consisting of particles endued with 
original distinct properties.^ And upon these, if I may 
venture to give my conjectures, it seemeth probable 
the specific properties of bodies, and the force of specific 
medicines, may depend. Different sides of the same ray 
shall, one approach and the other recede from the 
islandic crystal ; can this be accounted for by the elas- 
ticity of a fine medium, or by the general laws of mo- 
tion, or by any mechanical principles whatever ? And 
if not, what should hinder but there may be specific 
medicines, whose operation depends not upon mecha- 
nical principles, how much soever that notion hath been 
exploded of late years ? 

239. Why may we not suppose certain idiosyncra- 
sies, sympathies, oppositions, in the solids or fluids or 
animal spirit of a human body, with regard to the fine 
insensible parts of minerals or vegetables, impregnated 
by rays of light of different properties, not depending 
oh the different size, figure, number, solidity, or weight, 
of those particles, nor on the general laws of motion, 

• Sect. 148. f Sect. 152. 156. $ Sect 40. 181. 
VOL. III. 2 B 



882 siftis. 

< nor on the density or elasticity of a medium, bot merely 
and altogether on the good pleasure of the Creator, in 
the original formation of things ? From whence divers 
unaccountable and unforeseen motions may arise in the 
animal economy ; from whence also various peculiar 

• and specific virtues may be conceived to arise, residing 
in certain medicines, and not to be explained by mecha- 
nical principles. For although the general known laws 
of motion are to be deemed mechanical, yet peculiar 
motions of the insensible parts, and peculiar properties 
depending thereon, are occult and specific. 

240. The words attraction and repulsion may, in 
compliance with custom, be used where, accurately 

, speaking, motion alone is meant.' And in that sense it 
may be said, that peculiar attractions or repulsions in 
the parts are attended, with specific properties in the 
whole. The particles of light are vehemently moved to 
or from, retained or rejected by, objects : which is the 
same thing as to say, with Sir Isaac Newton, that the 
particles of acids are endued with great attractive force, 9 
wherein their activity consists; whence fermentation 
and dissolution ; and that the most repellent are, upon 
contact, the most attracting particles. 

24 1 . Gravity and fermentation are received for two 
most extensive principles. From fermentation are de- 
rived the motion and warmth of the heart and blood in 
animals, subterraneous . heat, fires, and earthquakes, 
meteors and changes in the atmosphere. And, that 
attracting and repelling forces operate in the nutrition 
and dissolution of animal and vegetable bodies, is the 
doctrine both of Hippocrates and Sir Isaac Newton. 
The former of these celebrated authors, in his treatise 
concerning Diet or Regimen, observes that in the nou- 
rishment of man,, one part repels and another attracts. 
And again in the same treatise, two carpenters, saith 
be, aajf apiece of timber : one draws, the other pushes : 

* Sect. 202. 



sritift. 3fl& 

these two actions tend to one and the sam6 end, 
though in a contrary direction, one up, the other down : 
this imitates the nature of man : mnvfia to piv IXjcci to 

242. It is the general maxim of Hippocrates, that 
the manner wherein nature acts consisteth in attracting 
what is meet and good, and in repelling what is dis- 
agreeable or hurtful He makes the whole of the ani- 
mal economy to be administered by the faculties or 
powers of nature. Nature alone, saith he, sufficeth for 
all things to animals. She knows of herself what is 
necessary for them. Whence it is plain he means a 
conscious intelligent nature, that presides and moves the 
ethereal spirit. Aftd though he declares all things are 
accomplished on man by necessity, yet it is not a blind 
fate or chain of mere corporeal causes, but a Divine ne- 
cessity, as he himself expressly calls it. And what is this 
but an overruling intelligent power that disposeth of alt 
things ? 

243. Attraction cannot produce, and in that sense 
account for, the phenomena, being itself one of the phe- 
nomena produced and to be accounted for.* Attraction 
is performed by different laws, and cannot therefore in' 
all cases be the effect of the elasticity of one uniform 
medium. The phenomena of electrical bodies, the lawrf* 
and variations of magnetism, and, not to mention other 
kinds, even gravity, is not explained by elasticity, a: 
phenomenon not less obscure than itself. But then, 
although it shew not the agent, yet it sheweth a rule 
and analogy in nature, to say,, that the solid parts of 
animals are endued with attractive powers' whereby 
from contiguous fluids they draw like to like ; and that 
glands have peculiar powers attractive of peculiar 
juices.f Nature seems better known and explained 
by attractions and repulsions, than by those other me- 
chanical principles of size, figure, and the like : that 

• Sfcct. 160. 235. t Sect- 41'. 

2B2 



364 sim*. 

is, by Sir Isaac Newton,, than Descartes, And natural 
philosophers excel, as they are more or less acquainted 
with the laws and methods observed by the Author of 
nature. 

244. The size and shape of particles and general 
laws of motion can never explain the secretions without 
the help of attraction, obscure perhaps as to its cause, 
but clear as a law. Numberless instances of this might 
be. given : Lemery the younger thought himself obliged 
to. suppose, the particles of light or fire (contrary to all 
reason) to be of a very gross kind, even greater than the 
pores of the burnt limestone, in order to account for 
their being detained or imprisoned therein ; but this 
phenomenon is easily reduced to attraction. There 
would be no end of enumerating the like cases. The 
activity and force of ethereal spirit or fire by the laws of 
attraction f is imparted to grosser particles,* and thereby 
wonderfully supports the economy of living bodies. 
By such peculiar compositions and attractions it seems 
to be effected, that denser fluids can pass where air 
itself cannot (as oil through leather), and therefore 
through the nicest and finest strainers of an animal or 
vegetable. 

245. The ancients had some general conception of 
attracting and repelling powers as natural principles.! 
Galilaei had particularly considered the attraction of 
gravity, and made some discovery of the laws thereof. 
But Sir Isaac Newton, by his singular penetration, pro- 
found knowledge in geometry and mechanics, and great 
exactness in experiments, hath cast a new light on natu- 
ral science. The laws of attraction and repulsion were 
in many instances discovered, and first discovered by 
him. He shewed their general extent, and therewith, 
as with a key, opened several deep secrets of nature, in 
the knowledge whereof he seems to have made a greater 
progress, than all the sects of corpuscularians together 

• Sect. 152. 163. + Sect 241, 242. 



siris. 365 

h&d done before him. Nevertheless, the principle of 
attraction itself is not to be explained by physical or cor- 
poreal causes. 

246. The Cartesians attempted to explain it by the 
nisus of a subtile element, receding from the centre of 
its motion, and impelling grosser bodies towards it. 
Sir Isaac Newton in his later thoughts seems (as was 
before observed) to have adopted somewhat not alto- 
gether foreign from this notion, ascribing that to his 
elastic medium which Descartes did to his second ele- 
ment.* But the great men of antiquity resolved gravity 
into the immediate action of an intelligent incorporeal 
being. To which also Sir Isaac Newton himself attests 
and subscribes, although he may perhaps sometimes be 
thought to forget himself, in his manner of speaking of 
physical agents, which in a strict sense are none at all ; 
and in supposing real forces to exist in bodies, in which, 
to speak truly, attraction and repulsion should be consi- 
dered only as tendencies or motions, that is, as mere ef- 
fects, and their laws as laws of motion. 

247. Though it be supposed the chief business of a 
natural philosopher to trace out causes from the effects, 
yet this is to be understood not of agents but of prin- 
ciples, f that is, of component parts, in one sense, or of 
laws or rules in another. In strict truth, all agents are 
incorporeal, and as such are not properly of physical con- 
sideration. The astronomer, therefore, the mechanic, 
or the chemist, not as such, but by accident only, treats 
of real causes, agents, or efficients. Neither doth it 
seem, as is supposed by the greatest of mechanical phi- 
losophers, that the true way of proceeding in their sci- 
ence is, from known motions in nature to investigate 
the moving forced. Forasmuch as foitee is neither cor- 
poreal nor belongs to any corporeal thing ;^ nor yet to 
be discovered by experiments or mathematical reason* 

• Sect. 237, 238. t Sect 155. J Sect. 220. 



306 frRis. 

ings, which reach no ferther than discernible effects, and 
motions in things passive and moved. 

248. Vis or force is to the soul, what extension is 
tp the body, saith St, Augustin, in his tract concerning 
the quantity of the soul ; and without force there is no- 
thing done or made, and consequently there can be no 
agent. Authority is not to decide in this case. Let any 
one consult his own notions and reason, as well as ex- 
perience, concerning the origin of motion, and the re* 
spective natures, properties, and differences of soul and 
body, and he will, if I mistake not, evidently perceive, 
that there is nothing active in the latter. Nor are they 
natural agents or corporeal forces, which make the par* 
tides of bodies to cohere. Nor is it the business of ex- 
perimental philosophers to find them out. 

249, The mechanical philosopher, as hath been al- 
ready observed, inquires properly concerning the rules 
and modes of operation alone, and not concerning the 
capse, forasmuch as nothing mechanical is or really can 
be a cause.* And although a mechanical or mathema- 
tical philosopher may speak of absolute space, absolute 
motion, and of force as existing in bodies, causing such 
motion and proportional thereto ; yet what these forces 
are, which are supposed to be lodged in bodies, to be 
impressed on bodies, to be multiplied, divided* and 
communicated from one body to another, and which 
seem to animate bodies like abstract spirits* or souls, 
hath been found very difficult, not to say impossible, for 
thinking men to conceive and explain, as may be seen 
by consulting Borellusde Vi Percussionis, andTorricelli 
in his Lezioni Academiche, among other authors. 

250. Nor, if we consider the proclivity of mankind 
to realize their notions, will it seem strange that me- 
chanic philosophers and geometricians should, like 
other men, be misled by prejudice, and take mathema- 

« Sect. 236, 237. 



sntxs; 307 

tical hypotheses for real beings existing in bixjies, so 
far as even to make it die very aim and end of their sci- 
ence to compute or measure those phantoms ; wherfeas 
it is very certain that nothing in truth can be measured 
or computed,* besides the very effects or motions them- 
selves. Sir Isaac Newton asks, Have not the minute 
particles of bodies certain forces or powers by which they . 
act on one another, as well as on the particles of light, 
for producing most of the phenomena in nature ? But 
in reality, those minute particles are only agitated accord* 
ing to certain laws of nature, by some other agent/ 
wherein the force exists and not in them, whiph have 
only the motion ; which motion in the body moved, the 
Peripatetics rightly judge to be a mere passion, but in: 
the mover to be ivipyma or act 

251. It passeth with many, I know not how, that 
mechanical principles give a clear solution of the pheno- 
mena. The Democritic hypothesis, satth Doctor Cud- 
worth, doth much more handsomely and intelligibly solve 
the phenomena, than that of Aristotle and Plato. But, 
things rightly considered, perhaps it will be found not 
to solve any phenomenon at all : for all phenomena are, 
to speak truly, appearances in the soul or mind, and 
it hath never been explained, nor can it be explained, 
how external bodies, figures, and motions, should pro- 
duce an appearance in the mind. These principles, 
therefore, do not solve, if by solving is meant assigning 
the real, either efficient or final cause of appearances, 
but only reduce them to general rules. 

252. There is a certain analogy, constancy, and 
uniformity, in the phenomena or appearances of nature, 
which are a foundation for general rules : and (tiese are a 
grammar for the understanding of naturc£)or that series 
of effects in the visible world, whereby we are enabled to 
foresee what will come to pass, in the natural course of 
things. Plotinus observes, in his third iEneid, that 

* This subject is handled at large in the Latin tract De Motu. 



368 sieis. 

the art of presaging is in some sort the reading 6f na- 
tural letters denoting order/ and. that' so far forth as 
analogy obtains in the universe, there may be vaticina- 
tion. And in reality, he that foretels the motions of the 
planets, or the effects of medicines, or the results of 
chemical or mechanical experiments, may be said, to do 
it by natural vaticination. 

253. We know a thing when we understand it : 
and we understand it when we can interpret or tell 
what it signifies. Strictly, the sense knows nothing. 
We perceive indeed sounds by hearing, and characters 
by sight. But we are not therefore said to understand 
them. After the same manner, the phenomena of na- 
ture are alike visible to all : but all have pot alike learn* 
ed the connexion of natural things, or understand 
what they signify, or know how to vaticinate by them. ' 
There is no question, sdith Socrates, in Theaeteto, con- 
cerning that which is agreeable to each person; but 
concerning what will in time to come be agreeable, of 
which all men are not equally judges. He who fore- 
knoweth what will be in every kind is the wisest. Ac* 
cording to Socrates, you and the cook may judge of a 
dish on the table equally well, but while the dish is makr 
ing, the cook can better foretel what will ensue from 
this or that manner of composing it. Nor is this man- 
ner of reasoning confined only to morals or politics ; but 
extends also to natural science. 

254. As the natural connexion of signs with the 
things signified is regular and constant, it forms a sort 
of rational discourse,* and is therefore the immediate 
effect of an intelligent cause. This is agreeable to the 
philosophy of Plato, and other ancients. Plotinus in- 
deed saith, that which acts naturally is not intellection, 
but a certain power of moving matter, which doth not 
know but only do. And it must be owned, that, as fa- 
culties are multiplied by philosophers according ta their 

Sect. 152. 



siris. 309 

operations, the will may be distinguished from the in- 
tellect. But it will not therefore follow, that the will, 
which operates in the course of nature, is not conducted 
and applied by intellect, although it be granted that nei- 
ther will understands, nor intellect wills. Therefore, 
the phenomena of nature, which strike on the senses 
and are understood by the mind, do form not only a 
magnificent spectacle, but also a most coherent, enter- 
taining, and instructive discourse ; and to effect this, 
they are conducted, adjusted, and ranged, by the greatest 
wisdom. This language or discourse is studied with 
different attention, and interpreted with different de- 
grees of skill. But so far as men have studied and re- 
marked its rules, and can interpret right, so far they 
may be said to be knowing in nature. A beast is like a 
man who hears a strange tongue but understands no- 
thing. 

255. Nature, saith the learned Doctor Cudworth, is 
not master of art or wisdom : nature is ratio mersa et 
conjusa, reason immerged and plunged into matter, and 
as it were fuddle<J in it and confounded with it. But 
the formation of plants and animals, the motions of na- 
tural bodies, their various properties, appearances, and 
vicissitudes, in a word, the whole series of things in this 
visible world, which we call the course of nature, is 
so wisely managed and carried on, that the most im- 
proved human reason cannot thoroughly comprehend 
even the least particle thereof; so far is it from seem- 
ing to be produced by fuddled or confounded reasqn. 

256. Natural productions, it is true, are not all 
equally perfect. But neither doth it suit with the order 
of things, the structure of the universe, or the ends 
of Providence, that they should be so. General rules, we 
have seen,* are necessary to make the world intelligible : 
and from the qpnstant observations of such rules, na- 
tural evils will sometimes unavoidably ensue ; things will 

• Sect. 219. 252. 



3?0 SHIS. 

be produced in a slow length of time, ahd arrive at dif- 
ferent degrees of perfection. 

257. It must be owned, we are not conscious of the 
systole and diastole of the heart, or the motion of the 
diaphragm. It may not nevertheless be thence inferred, 
that Unknowing nature can act regularly, as well as our- 
selves. The true inference is, that the self-thinking 
individual, or human person, is not the real author of 
those natural motions. And in fact no man blames 
himself if they are wrong, or values himself if they are 
right. The same may be said of the fingers of a musi- 
cian, which some object to be moved by habit which un- 
derstands not ; it being evident, that what is done by 
role must proceed from something that understands the 
rule ; therefore, if not from the musician himself, from 
some other active intelligence, the same perhaps which 
governs bees and spiders, and moves the limbs of those 
who walk in their sleep. 

258. Instruments, occasions, and signs,* occur in, 
or rather make up, the whole visible course of nature. 
These, being no agents themselves, are under the direc- 
tion of one agent concerting all for one end, the supreme 
good All those motions, whether in animal bodies or 
in other parts" of the system of nature, which are not 
effects of particular wills, seem to spring from the same 
general cause with the vegetation of plants, an ethereal 
spirit actuated by a mind. 

259. The first poets and theologers of Greece and 
the east considered the generation of things as ascribed 
rather to a Divine cause, but the physici to natural 
causes subordinate to, and directed still by a Divine ; 
except some corporealists and mechanics, who vainly pre- 
tended to make a world without a God. The hidden 
force that unites, adjusts, and causeth, all things to hang 
together, and move in harmony, which Orpheus and 
Empedocles styled Love ; this principle of union is no 

» Sect. 160. 



siris. 371 

Wind principle, but acts with intellect. This Divine love 
and intellect are not themselves obvious to our view, or 
otherwise discerned than in their effects. Intellect en«* 
lightens, love connects, and the sovereign good attracts, 
all things. 

260. All things are made for the supreme good, all 
things tend to that end : and we may be said to account 
for a thing, when we shew that it is so best In the 
Phaedron, Socrates declares it to be his opinion, that 
he, who supposed all things to have been disposed 
and ordered by a mind,* should not pretend to assign 
any other cause of them. He blames physiologers for 
attempting to account for phenomena, particularly for 
gravity and cohesion, by vortexes and ether, overlook- 
ing the to ayaOov and to Slov, the strongest bond and 
cement which holds . together all the parts of the uni- 
verse, and not discerning the cause itself from those 
things which only attend it. 

261. As in the microcosm, the constant regular 
tenor of the motions of the viscera, and contained juices 
doth not hinder, particular voluntary motions to be im- 
pressed by the mind on the animal spirit ; even so in 
the mundane system, the steady observance of certain 
laws of nature, in the grosser masses and more conspi* 
cuous motions, doth not hinder but a voluntary agent 
may sometimes communicate particular impressions to 
the fine ethereal medium, which in the world answers 
the animal spirit in man. Which two (if there are 
two), although invisible and inconceivably small, yet 
seem the real latent springs whereby all the parts of 
this visible world are moved ; albeit they are not to be 
regarded as a true cause, but only an instrument of 
motion ; and the instrument not as a help to the Cre- 
ator, but only as a sign to the creature. 

262. Plotinus supposeth that the soul of the uni- 
verse is not the original cause or author of the species, 

• Sect. 154. 160. 



372 siris. 

but receives them from intellect, the true principle of 
order and distinction, the source and giver of forms. 
Others consider the vegetative, soul only as some lower 
faculty of a higher soul, which animates the fiery ethe- 
real spirit.* As for the blots and defects which appear 
in the course of this world, which some have thought 
to proceed from a fatality or necessity in nature, and 
others from an evil principle, that same philosopher 
observes, that it may be the governing reason produceth 
and ordaineth all those things ; and, not intending that 
all parts should be equally good, maketh some worse 
than others by design, as all parts in an animal are not 
eyes : and in a city, comedy, or picture, all ranks, cha- 
racters, and colours, are not equal or alike ; even so ex- 
cesses, defects, and contrary qualities, conspire to the 
beauty and harmony of the world. 

263. It cannot be denied, 'that with respect to the 
universe of things, we in this mortal state are like men 
educated in Plato's cave, looking on shadows with our 
backs turned to the light. But though our light be 

j dim, and our situation bad, yet if the best use be made 
of both, perhaps something may be seen. Proclus in 
his commentary on the theology of Plato, observes there 
are two sorts of philosophers. The one placed body 
first in the order of beings, and made the faculty of 
thinking depend thereupon, supposing that the prin- 
ciples of all things are corporeal : that body most really 
or principally exists, and all other things in a secondary 
sense, and by virtue of that. Others making all corpo- 
real things to be dependant upon soul or mind, think 
this to exist in the first place and primary sense, and the 
being of bodies to be altogether derived from, iand pre- 
suppose that of the mind. 

264. Sense and ex|>erience acquaint us with the 
course and analogy of appearances or natural effects. 
Thought, reason, intellect, introduce us into the know- 

♦ Sect. 178. 



I 



sjhis. - 373 

ledge of their causes. Sensible appearances, though of 
a flowing, unstable, and uncertain nature, yet ' having 
first occupied the mind, they do by an early prevention 
render the after-task of thought more difficult ; , and as 
they amuse the eyes and ears, and are more suited to 
vulgar uses and the mechanic arts of life, they easily 
obtain the preference, in the opinion of most men, to 
those superior principles, which are the later growth of 
the human mind arrived to maturity and perfection, but 
not affecting the corporeal sense, are thought to be so 
far deficient in point of solidity and reality, sensible and 
real, to common apprehensions, being the same thing. 
Although it be certain, that the principles of science are 
neither objects pf sense nor imagination ; and that in- 
tellect and reason are alone the sure guides to truth. . 

265. The successful curiosity of the present age, in 
arts and experiments and new systems, is apt to elate 
men, and make them overlook the ancients. But not- 
withstanding that the encouragement and purse of 
princes, and the united endeavours of great societies in 
these later ages, have extended experimental and me- 
chanical knowledge very far, yet it must be owned that 
the ancients too were not ignorant of many things,* as 
well in physics as metaphysics, which perhaps are more 
generally though not first known in these modern times. 
266. The Pythagoreans and Platonists had a notion 
of the true system of the world. They allowed of me- 
chanical principles, but actuated by soul or mind : th^y 
distinguished the primary qualities in bodies from the 
secondary, making the former to be physical causes, 
and they understood physical causes in a right sense : 
they saw that a mind infinite in power, unextended, in- 
visible, immortal, governed, connected, and contained, 
all things : they saw there was no such thing as real 
absolute space ; that mind, soul, or spirit, truly and 
really exists : that bodies exist only in a secondary and 

• Sect 166, 167, 168. 241, 242, &c. 



374 sims. 

dependent sense; that the soul is the place of forms 7 
that the sensible qualities are to be regarded as acts only 
in the cause, and as passions in us : they accurately 
considered the differences of intellect, rational soul, and 
sensitive soul, with their distinct acts of intellection, 
reasoning, and sensation, points wherein the Cartesians 
and their followers, who consider sensation as a mode 
of thinking, seem to have failed. They knew there was 
a subtile ether pervading the whole mass of corporeal 
beings, and which was itself actually moved and directed 
by a mind : and that physical causes were only instru- 
ments, or rather marks and signs. 

267. Those ancient philosophers understood the 
generation of animals to consist, in the unfolding and 
distending of the minute imperceptible parts of pre-ex- 
isting anamalcules, which passeth for a modern disco* 
very : this they took for the work of nature, but nature 
animate and intelligent they understood that all things 
were alive and in motion :* they supposed a concord and 
discord, a union and disunion, in particles, some attract- 
ing, others repelling, each other : and that those attrac- 
tions and repulsions* so various, regular, and useful, 
could not be accounted for, but by an intelligence pre- 
siding and directing all particular motions, for the con- 
servation and benefit of the whole. 

268. The Egyptians, who impersonated nature, 
had made her a distinct principle, and even deified her 
under the name of Isis. But Osiris was understood 
to be mind or reason, chief and sovereign of all. Osi- 
ris, if we may believe Plutarch, was the first, pure, un- 
mixed, and holy principle, not discernible by the lower 
faculties; a glimpse whereof like lightning darting 
forth, irradiates the understanding ; with regard to 
which Plutarch adds, that Plato and Aristotle termed 
one part of philosophy iiroirrucov : to wit, when having 
soared above common mixed objects, and got beyond 

* Sect. 172. 



SIHI8. 375 

the precincts of sense and opinion* they arrive to con- 
template the first and most simple being, free from all 
matter and composition. This is that ovVca qvtwq daa 
of Plato which employeth mind alone; which done 
governs the soul. And the soul is that which immedi- 
ately informs and animates nature. 

269. Although the Egyptians did symbolically re- 
present the supreme Divinity sitting on a lotus, and 
that gesture hath been interpreted to signify, the most 
holy and Venerable being to be utterly at rest reposing 
within himself; yet for any thing that appears, this 
gesture might denote dignity as well as repose. . And 
it cannot be denied, that Jamblichus, so knowing in the 
Egyptian notions, taught there was an intellect that 
proceeded to generation, drawing forth the latent 
powers into light in the formation of things. Nor was 
this to be understood of an external world, subsisting 
in real absolute space ; for it was a doctrine of those 
ancient sages, that soul was the place of forms, as may 
be seen in the twelfth book of the arcane part of Divine 
wisdom, according to the Egyptians. This notion was 
embraced by divers philosophers of Greece, who may 
be supposed to have derived it from the same source 
from whence many of their other opinions were drawn. 

270^ The doctrine of real, absolute, external space, 
induced some modern philosophers to conclude it was a 
part or attribute of God, or that God himself was space; 
inasmuch as incommunicable attributes of the Deity 
appeared to agree thereto, such as infinity, immutabi- 
lity, indivisibility, incorporeity, being uncreated, impas- 
sive, without beginning or ending; not -considering 
that all these negative properties may belong to nothing. 
For nothing hath no limits, cannot be moved or chang- 
ed, or divided, is neither created nor destroyed. A dif- 
ferent way of thinking appears in the Hermaic as weM 
as other writings of the ancients. With regard to ab- 
solute space, it is observed in the Asclepian Dialogue ; 



376 sibis. 

that the word space or place hath by itself no meaning ; 
and again, that it is impossible to understand what 
space alone or pure space is. And Plotinus acknow- 
ledgeth no place but soul or mind, expressly affirming 
that the soul is not in the world, but the world in the 
soul. And farther, the place of the soul, saith he, is not 
body, but soul is in mind, and body in the soul. See 
the third chapter of the fifth book of the fifth iEneid. 
27 1. Concerning absolute space, that phantom of 
the mechanic geometrical philosophers,* it. may suffice 
to observe, that it is neither perceived by any sense, nor 
proved by any reason, and . was accordingly treated by 
the greatest of the ancients as a thing merely visionary. 
From the motion of absolute space springs that of ab- 
solute motion ;t and in these are ultimately founded 
the notions of external existence, independence, neces- 
sity, and fate. Which fate, the idol of many modems, 
was by old philosophers differently understood, and in 
such a sense as not to destroy the avre&ownov of God or 
man. Parmenides, who thought all things to be made 
by necessity or fate, understood justice and Providence 
to be the same with fate ; which, how fixed and cogent 
soever with respect to man, may yet be voluntary with 
respect to God. Empedocles declared fate to be a cause 
using principles and elements. Heraclitus taught that 
fate was the general reason that runs through the whole 
nature of the universe : which nature he supposed to be 
an ethereal body, the seed of the generation of all 
things. Plato held fate to be the eternal reason or law 

•Sect. 250. 

f Our judgment in these matters is not to be overborne by a* 
presumed evidence of mathematical notions and reasonings, since 
it is plain, the mathematicians of this age embrace obscure notions, 
and uncertain opinions, and are puzzled about them, contradicting 
each other and disputing like other men : witness their doctrine of 
fluxions, about which within these ten years I have seen published 
above twenty tracts and dissertations, whose authors being utterly 
at variance, and inconsistent with each other, instruct by-standert 
what to think of their pretensions to evidence. 



3IBIS. 377 

of nature. Chrysippus supposed that fate was a spiritual 
power which disposed the world in order ; that it was 
the reason and law of those things which are adminis- 
tered by Providence. 

272. All the foregoing notions of fate* as repre- 
sented by Plutarch, do plainly shew that those ancient 
philosophers did not mean by fate, a blind, headlong, 
unintelligent principle, but an orderly settled course of 
things, conducted by a wise and provident mind. And 
as for the Egyptian doctrine, it is indeed asserted in the 
Pimander, that all things are produced by fate. But 
Jamblichu8, who drew his notions from Egypt, affirms 
that the whole of things is not bound up in fate; but 
that there is a principle of the soul higher than nature, 
whereby we may be raised to a union with the gods 
and exempt ourselves from fate. And in the Asclepian 
Dialogue it is expressly said that fate follows the decrees 
of God. And indeed, as all the nations in nature are 
evidently the product of reason,* it should seem there 
is no room for necessity, in any other sense than that 
of a steady regular course. 

273. Blind fate and blind chance are at bottom 
much the same thing, and one no more intelligible than 
the other. Such is the mutual relation, connexion, 
motion, and sympathy, of the parts of this world, that 
they seem as it were animated and held together by one 
soul: and such is their harmony, order, and regular 
course, as sheweth the soul to be governed and directed 
by a mind. It was an opinion of remote antiquity that 
the world was an animal. f If we may trust the Her- 
maic writings, the Egyptians thought all things did par- 
take of life. This opinion was also so general and cur- 
rent among the Greeks, that Plutarch asserts all others 
held the world to be an animal, and governed by Provi- 
dence, except Leucippus, Democritus, and Epicurus. 
And although an animal, containing all bodies within it- 

• Sect. 154. t Sect. 153. 172. 

VOL. III. 2 c 



37flf siRrs. 

self* could not be touched or sensibly affected from with- 
out, yet it is plain they attributed to it an inward sense 
and feeling, as well as appetites and aversions ; and that 
from all the various tones, actions, and passions, of the 
universe, they supposed one symphony, one animal act 
and life, to result; 

274 . Jamblichus declares the world to be one animal, 
in which the parts, however distant from each other, 
are nevertheless related and connected by one common 
nature. And he teacheth, what is also a received no- 
tion of the Pythagoreans and Platonics, that there is no 
chasm in nature, but a chain or scale of beings rising by 
gentle uninterrupted gradations from the lowest to the 
highest, each nature being informed and perfected by 
the participation of a higher. As air becomes igneous, 
so the purest fire becomes animal, and the animal soul 
becomes intellectual, which is to be understood not of 
the change of one nature into another, but of the con- 
nexion of different natures, each lower nature being, ao 

• cording to those philosophers, as it were a receptacle or 
subject for the next above it to reside and act in. 

275. It is also the doctrine of Platonic philosophers, 
that intellect is the very life of living things, the first 
principle and exemplar of all, from whence by different 
degrees are derived the inferior classes of life ; first the 
rational, then the sensitive, after that the vegetal, but 
so as in the rational animal there is still somewhat intel- 
lectual, again in the sensitive there is somewhat rational; 
and in the vegetal somewhat sensitive, and lastly, in 
mixed bodies as metals and minerals, somewhat of ve- 
getation. By which means the whole is thought to be 
tnbte perfectly connected. Which doctrine implies that 
all the faculties, instincts, and motions, of inferior 
beings, in their several respective subordinations, are 
derived from and depend upon mind and intellect. 

276/ Both Stoics and Platonics held the world to 
be alive, though sometimes it be mentioned as a sen- 



SIRI0. 

tient animal, sometimes as a plant or vegetable* But 
in this, notwithstanding what hath been surmised by 
some learned men, there seems to be no atheism. For 
so long as the world is supposed to be quickened by 
elementary fire or spirit, which is itself animated by 
soul, and directed by understanding, it follows that all 
parts thereof originally depend upon, and may be re-, 
duced unto, the same indivisible . stem or principle, to 
wit, a supreme tnind ; which is the concurrent doctrine 
of Pythagoreans, Platonics, and Stoics. 

277* There is, according to those philosophers, a 
life infused throughout all things : the vvp voepov, Ttvp 
TtyyiK&V) an intellectual and artificial fire,* an inward 
principle, animal spirit, or natural life, producing and 
forming within as art doth without, regulating, mode- 
rating, and reconciling, the various motions, qualities, 
qnd parts, of this mundane system. By virtue of this 
life: the great masses are held together m their ordinary 
courses, as well as the minutest particles governed in 
their natural motions, according to the several laws of 
attraction, gravity, electricity, magnetism, and the rest. 
It is this gives instincts, teaches the spider her web, and 
the bee her honey. This it is that directs the roots of 
plants to draw forth juices from the earth, and the 
leaves and cor tide vessels to separate and attract such 
particles of air, and elementary fire, as suit their respect- 
ive natures. 

278. Nature seems to be not otherwise distinguished 
from the anima mundi, than as life is from soul, and 
upon the principles of the oldest philosophers, may not 
improperly or incongruously be styled the life of thd 
world. Some Platonics, indeed, regard life as the act 
of nature, in like manner as intellection is of the mind 
or intellect. As the first intellect acts by understand* 
ing, so nature according to them acts or generates by 
living. But life is the act of the soul, and seems to be 

* Sect. 166. 168. 174, 175, *c. * 
2 C 2 



380 8ims< 

very nature itself, which is not the principle, but the 
result of another and higher principle, being a life re- 
sulting from soul, as cogitation from intellect. 

279. If nature be supposed the life of the world, 
animated by one soul, compacted into one frame, and 
directed or governed in all parts by one mind; this 
system cannot be accused of atheism ; though perhaps 
it may of mistake or impropriety. And yet as one pre- 
siding, mind gives unity to the infinite aggregate of 
things, by a mutual communion of actions and passions, 
and an adjustment of parts, causing all to concur in one 

• view to one and the same end, the ultimate and supreme 
good of the whole, it should seem reasonable to - say, 
with Ocellus Lucanus the Pythagorean, that as life holds 
together the bodies of animals, the cause whereof is the 
soul ; and as a city is held together by concord, the 
cause whereof is law ; even so the world is Held together 
by harmony, the cause whereof is God. And in this 
sense the world or universe may be considered either as 
one animal or one city.* 

280. Aristotle disapproves the opinion of those who 
hold a soul to be diffused throughout the world ; and 
for this reason ; because the elements are not alive. 
Though perhaps it may not be easy to prove, that 
blood and animal spirit are more alive in man, than 
water and fire in the world. That philosopher, in his 
books of the Soul, remarks upon an opinion set forth in 
the Orphics, of the soul's entering from the universe 
into living creatures being borne by winds, that this can- 
not be true of plants or of certain animals which do not 
breathe. But air vessels are by later experiments al- 
lowed to be found in all plants and animals. And air 
may in some sort not improperly be said, to be the car- 
rier or vehicle of the soul, inasmuch as it is the vehicle 
of fire, which is the spirit immediately moved and ani- 
mated by the soul.f 

* Sect. 172. 277. + Sect. 163. 171. 



sims. 381* 

281. The living fire, the living omniform seminary 
of the world, and other expressions of the like nature, 
occurring in the ancient and Platonic philosophy, how , 
can they be understood exclusive of light or elemental 
fire, the particles of which are known to be heteroge- 
neous, and, for aught we know, may some of them be 
organized, and, notwithstanding their wonderful mi- 
nuteness, contain original seeds which, being formed 
and sowed in a proper matrix, do gradually unfold and 
manifest themselves, 'still growing to a just proportion of 
the species ? 

282. May not this ethereal seminary, consistently 
with the notions of that philosophy which ascribed 
much of generation to celestial influence, be supposed' 
to impregnate plants and animals* with the first princi- 
ples, the stamina, or those animalcules which Plato, in 
his Timaeus, saith are invisible for their smallness, but, 
being sown in a proper matrix, are therein gradually 
distended and explicated by nourishment, and at length 
the animals' brought forth to light ? Which notion hath 
been revived and received of late years by many, who 
perhaps are not aware of its antiquity, or that itrwas to 
be found in Plato. Timaeus Locrensis, in his book of 
the Soul of the World, supposeth even souls to be de- 
rived from the celestial luminaries, excepting only the 
rational or intellectual part. But what influence or in* 
flux is there from the celestial bodies, which hath not 
light for its vehicle ?• 

283. What other nature there should be interme- 
diate between the soul of the world and this gross cor- 
poreal system,! which might be the vehicle of life, or, to 
use the language of philosophers, might receive or be 
impressed with the forms of things, is difficult to com- 
prehend. It is a vulgar remark, that the works of art 
do not bear a nice microscopial inspection, but the more 
helps are used, and the more nicely you pry into natural 

• Sect. 43. t Sect 171. 



&82 4IBIS. 

productions, th6 more do you discover of the fine me- 
chanism of nature, which is endless or inexhaustible ; 
hew and other parts, more subtile and delicate than the 
precedent, still continuing to offer themselves to view. 
And these microscopial observations have confirmed the 
-ancient theory concerning generation, delivered in the 
Timaeus of Plato. But that theory or hypothesis, how 
agreeable soever to modern discoveries, is not alone 
sufficient to explain the phenomena, without the imme- 
diate action of a mind. And Ficinus, notwithstanding 
what he himself and other Platonics say of a plastic na- 
ture, is obliged to own, that with the mundane force or 
soul it is to be understood, there is joined an intelli- 
gence, upon which the seminal nature constantly de- 
pends, and by which it is governed. 

284. Alcinous, in his tract of the Doctrine of Plato, 
saith that God hath given the world both mind and soul : 
others include both in the word soul, and suppose the 
&oul of the world to be God. Philo appears to be of 
this opinion in several parts of his writings* And Virgil, 
who was no stranger to the Pythagorean and Platonic 
tenets, writes to the same purpose. 

Deum naraque ire per omnes 
Terras que tractusque maris coelumque profundum. 
Hinc pecudes armenta, viros, genus orane ferarum 

Quemqoe sibi tenues nascentem arcessere vitas. 

i 

Thus much the schools of Plato and Pythagoras seem 
agreed in, to wit, that the soul of the world,* whether 
having a distinct mind of its own, or directed by a supe- 
rior mind,t doth embrace all its parts, connect them by 
an invisible and indissoluble chain, and preserve them 
ever well adjusted and in good order. 

285. Naturalists, whose proper province it is to 
consider phenomena, experiments, mechanical organs 
and motions, principally regard the visible frame of 

* Sect. 158- 172. + Sect. 145. 279. 



.41*11. 083 

things or corporal lyOrUi supposing soul tq tacftfftaiwfl 
in body. Aifcd this bytxftheiis xwy be tolerated in phyf 
aics, as it is not necessary in the art of dialling or nsvtt 
gation to mention the true system dr earth's: motion'. 
But .those who, not content with sensible appearance^ 
would penetrate into the real and true causes (thfc object 
of theology, metaphysics, or the philosophia prima), will 
rectify this error, and speak of the world as contained 
by the soul, and not the soul by the world. 

286. Aristotle hath observed, there were indeed 
some who thought so grossly, as to suppose the universe 
to be one only corporeal and extended nature': bbt in 
the first book of his Metaphysics he justly remarks they 
were guilty of a great mistake ; forasmuch as they took 
into their account the elements or corporeal beings 
alone ; whereas there are incorporeal beings also in the 
universe ; and while they attempt to assign the causes 
of generation and corruption, and account for the na- 
ture of all things, they did at the same time destroy the 
very cause of motion. 

287. It is a doctrine among other speculations con- 
tained in the Hermaic writings, that all things are one. 
And it is not improbable that Orpheus, Parmeoides, 
and others among the Greeks, might have derived their 
notion of rq U the one from Egypt. Though that 
subtile metaphysician Parmenides, in his doctrine of 
hf untK, seems to have added something of his own. If 
we suppose, that one and the same mind is. the universal 
principle of order and harmony throughout the world, 
containing and connecting all its parts, and giving unity 
to the system, there seems to be nothing atheistical or 
impious in this supposition. 

288. Number is no object of sense : it is an act of 
the mind. The same thing in a different conception is 
orie or many. Comprehending God and the creatures 
in one general nation, we may say that all things toge- 
ther make one universe, or ro mv. But if .we should 



384 8i*il. 

say, that all things make one God i this would, indeed, 
be an erroneous notion of God, but would not amount 
to atheism, so long as mind or intellect was admitted to 
be the to ny^ovticpv, the governing part. It is never- 
theless more respectful, and consequently the truer na- 
tion of God, to suppose him neither made up of parts, 
nor to be himself a part in any whole whatsoever. 

289. All those, who conceived the universe to be an 
animal, must, in consequence of that notion, suppose all 
things to be one. But to conceive God to be the sen- 
tient soul of an animal, is altogether unworthy and ab- 
surd. There is no sense nor sensory, nor any thing 
like a sense or sensory, in God. Sense implies an im- 
pression from some other being, and denotes a depend- 
ence in the soul which hath it. Sense is a passion : and 
passions imply imperfection. God knoweth all things, 
as pure mind or intellect, but nothing by sense, nor in 
nor through a sensory. Therefore to suppose a sensory 
of any kind, whether space or any other, in God, would 
be very wrong, and lead us into false conceptions of his 
nature. The presuming there was such a thing as real, 
absolute, uncreated space, seems to have occasioned that 
modern mistake. But this presumption was without 
grounds. 

290. Body is opposite to spirit or mind. We have 
a notion of spirit from thought and action. We have 
a notion of body from resistance. So far forth as there 
is real power, there is spirit So far forth as there is 
resistance, there is inability or want of power : that is, 
there is a negation of spirit. We are embodied, that is, 
we are clogged by weight, and hindered by resistance. 
But in respect of a perfect spirit, there is nothing hard 
or impenetrable : there is no resistance to the Deity : 
nor hath he any body : nor is the supreme Being united 
to the world, as the soul of an animal is to its body, 
which necessarily implieth defect, both as an instrument 
and as a constant weight and impediment. 



siiud. 385 

291. Thus touch it consists with piety to say, that 
a Divine Agent doth by his virtue permfeate and govern 
the elementary fire or light,* which serves as animal 
spirit to enliven and actuate the whole mass, and all the 
members of this visible world. Nor is this doctrine less 
philosophical than pious. We see all nature alive or in 
motion. We see water turned into air, and air rarefied 
and made elastic by the attraction of another medium,! 
more pure indeed, more subtile, and more volatile, 
than air. But still, as this is a moveable, extended, and 
consequently a corporeal being, $ it cannot be itself the 
principle of motion, but leads us naturally and neces- 
sarily to an incorporeal spirit or agent. We are consci- 
ous that a spirit can begin, alter, or determinate motion, 
but nothing of this appears in body. Nay, the contrary 
is evident, both to experiment and reflection. • 

292. Natural phenomena are only natural appear- 
ances. They are, therefore, such as we see and per- 
ceive them. Their real and objective natures are, there- 
fore, the same ; passive without any thing active, fluent 
and changing without any thing permanent, in them. 
However, as these make the first impressions, and the 
mind takes her first flight and spring, as it were, by rest- 
ing her foot on these objects, they are not only first 
considered by all men, but most considered by most 
men. They and the phantoms that result from those 
appearances, the children of imagination grafted upon 
sense, such for example as pure space,§ are thought by 
many the very first in existence and stability, and to 
embrace and comprehend all other beings. 

293. Now although such phantoms as corporeal 
forces, absolute motions, and real spaces, do pass in 
physics for causes and principles,|| yet are they in truth 
but hypotheses, nor can they be the objects of real sci- 
ence. They pass nevertheless in physics conversant 

• Sect. 157. 172." t Sect. 149. 152. 200. % Sect 207. 
§ Sect. 270. II Sect. 220. 249, 250. 



966 iubis. 

about things of sense, and confined to experiments and 
' mechanics* But when we enter the province of the 
philosophia prima, we discover another order of beings, 
mind atid its acts, permanent being, not dependent on 
corporeal things, nor resulting, nor connected, nor con- 
tained; but containing, connecting, Enlivening, the 
whole frame ; and imparting those motions, forms, qua- 
lities, and that order and symmetry, to all those transient 
phenomena which we term the course of nature. 

294. It is with our faculties as with our affections: 
what first seizes holds fast* It is a vulgar theme, that 
man is a compound of contrarieties, which breed a rest- 
less struggle in his nature, between flesh and spirit, the 
beast and the angel, earth and heaven, ever weighed 
down and ever bearing up. During which conflict the 
character fluctuates: when either side prevails, it is 
then fixed for vice or virtue. And life from different 
principles takes a different issue. It is the satne.in re- 
gard to our faculties. Sense at first besets and over- 
bears the mind. The sensible appearances are all in 
all : our reasonings are employed about them : our de- 
sires terminate in them : we look no farther for realities 
or causes ; till intellect begins to dawn, and cast a ray 
on this shadowy scene. We then perceive the true 
principle of unity, identity, and existence. Those things 
that before seemed to constitute the whole of being, 
upon taking an intellectual view of things, prove to be 
but fleeting phantoms. 

295. From the outward form of gross masses which 
occupy the vulgar, a curious inquirer proceeds to exa- 
mine the inward structure and minute parts, and, from 
observing the motions in nature, to discover the laws 
of those motions. By the way, he frames his hypo- 
thesis and suits his language to this natural philosophy. 
And these fit the occasion and answer the end of a 
maker of experiments or mechanic, who means only to 

* Sect 264. 



sills. 387 

apply the potters of nature; and reduce the phenome- 
na to rules. Bat, if proceeding still in his analysis and 
inquiry, he ascends from the sensible into the intellect- 
ual world, and beholds things in a new light and a 
new order, he will then change his system, and per- 
ceive that what he took for substances and causes are 
but fleeting shadows : that the mind contains all, and 
acts all, and is to all created beings the source of uni- 
ty and identity, harmony and order, existence and sta- 
bility. 

QQ6. It is neither acid, nor salt, nor sulphur, nor 
air, nor ether, nor visible corppreal fire,* much less the 
phantom fete, or necessity, that is the real agent, but 
by a certain analysis, a regular connexion and climax, 
we ascend through all those mediums to a glimpse of 
the first Mover, invisible, incorporeal, uncxtended, in- 
tellectual Source, of life and being. There is, it must be 
owned, a mixture of obscurity and prejudice in human 
speech and reasonings. This is unavoidable, since the 
veils of prejudice and error are slowly and singly taken 
off one by one. But if there are many links in the chain 
which connects the two extremes of what is grossly sens- 
ible and purely intelligible, and it seem a tedious work, 
by the slow helps of memory, imagination, and reason, 
oppressed and overwhelmed, as we are, by the senses, 
through erroneous principles and long ambages of words 
and notions, to struggle upwards into the light of truth, 
yet as this gradually dawns, farther discoveries still cor- 
rect the style and clear up the notions. 

297. The mind, her acts, and faculties, furnish a 
new and distinct class of objects,f from the contem- 
plation whereof arise certain other notions, principles, 
and verities, so remote from, and even so repugnant to, 
the first prejudices which surprise the sense of man- 
kind, that they may well be excluded from vulgar speech 
end books, as abstract from sensible matters, and more 

• Sect. 155. 1 Sect. 163. 266. 



388 siws. 

fit for the speculation of truth, the labour and aim of 
a few, than for the practice of the world, or the sub- 
jects of experimental or mechanical inquiry. Never- 
theless though, perhaps, it may not be relished by some ' 
modern readers, yet the treating in physical books con- 
cerning metaphysical and Divine matters can be justi- 
fied by great authorities among the ancients : not to 
mention that he, who professedly delivers the elements 
of a science, is more obliged to method and system, and 
tied down to more rigorous laws, than a mere essay 
writer. It may, therefore, be pardoned if this rude es- 
say doth, by insensible transitions, draw the reader into 
remote inquiries and speculations, that were not, per- 
haps, thought of, either by him or by the author, at 
first setting out. 

298. There are traces of profound thought as well 
as primeval tradition in the Platonic, Pythagorean 
Egyptian, and Chaldaic philosophy.* Men in those 
early days were not overlaid with languages and litera- 
ture. Their minds seem to have been more exercised, 
and less burdened, than in later ages ; and, as so much 
nearer the beginning of the world, to have had the ad- 
vantage of patriarchal lights handed down through a few 
hands. It cannot indeed be affirmed (how probable 
soever it may seem) that Moses was that same Mo- 
di us with whose successors, priests, and prophets, Py- 
thagoras is said to have conversed at Sidon. Yet 
the study of philosophy appears to be of very great 
antiquity and remote original ; inasmuch as Timaeus 
Locrensis, that ancient Pythagorean, author of the 
book concerning the Soul of the World, speaks of a 
most ancient philosophy, even in his time, a wpwfiwnu 
^cAoao^ta, stirring up and recovering the sOul from a 
state of ignorance to the contemplation of Divine things. 
And though the books attributed to Mercurius Trisme- 
gistus were none of them wrote by him, and are allowed 

* Sect. 179. 266. 



Sims. 380 

to contain some manifest forgeries ; yet it is also al- 
lowed, that they contain tenets of the ancient Egypt- 
ian philosophy, though dressed perhaps in a more mo- 
dern garb. To account for which, Jamblichus observes 
that the books under his name contain indeed mercu- 
rial opinions; though often expressed in the style of the 
Greek philosophers : as having been translated from 
the Egyptian tongue into Greek. 

299. The difference of Isis from Orisis * resembles 
that of the moon from the sun, of the female from the 
male, of natura naturata (as the schoolmen speak) from 
nature naturans. But Isis, though mostly taken for 
nature, yet (as the Pagan divinities were very fluctu- 
ating things) it sometimes signified to wav< And we 
find in Mountfaudon an Isis of the ordinary form with 
this inscription, (kov iravo'c* And in the mensa Isiaca, 
which seems to exhibit a general system of the religion 
and superstition of the Egyptians, Isis on her throne 
possesseth the centre of the table. Which may seem to 
signify that the universe or to vav was the centre of the 
ancient secret religion of the Egyptians ; their Isis or 
ro wav comprehending both Osiris the Author of nature 
and his work. 

300. Plato and Aristotle considered God as ab- 
stracted or distinct from the natural world. But the 
Egyptians considered God and nature as making one 
whole, or all things, together as making one universe. 
In doing which they did not exclude the intelligent 
mind, but considered it as containing all things. There- 
fore, whatever was wrong in their way of thinking, it 
doth not, nevertheless, imply or lead to atheism. 

301. The human mind is so much clogged and 
borne downward, by the strong and early impressions 
of sense,t that it is wonderful, how the ancients should 
hive made even such a progress, and seen so far -into 
intellectual matters, without some glimmering of a Di~ 

* Sect. 268. t Sect. 264. 




390 snug. 



vine tradition: Whoever considers a parcel of rude 
savages left to themselves, how they ace sunk and swal- 
lowed up in sense and prejudice, and how unqualified 
by their natural force to emerge from this state, will be 
apt to think that the first spark of philosophy was de- 
rived from heaven ; and that it was (as a heathen writer 

expresseth it) (feoiraf aSoroc <fxko<ro$ia. 

302. The lapsed state of human kind is a thing to 
which the ancient philosophers were not strangers. The 
Xing, the <f>vyy, the iraXgyytveoia, shew that the Egyptians 
3nd Pythagoreans, the Platonists and Stoics, had all 
sorpe notion of this doctrine, the outlines of which seem 
to have been sketched out in those tejiets* Theology 
and philosophy gently unbind the ligaments that chain 
the soul down to the earth, and assist her flight towards 
the sovereign good. There, is an instinct or tendency 
of the mind upwards, which sheweth a natural endea- 
vour to recover and raise ourselves, from our present 
sensual and low condition, into a state of light, order, 
and purity. 

303. The perceptions of sense are gross: but even 
in the senses there is a difference. Though harmony 
and proportion are not objects of sense, ' yet the eye 
and the ear are organs, which offer to the mind such 
materials, by means whereof she may apprehend both 
the one and the other. By experiments of sense we 
become acquainted with the lower faculties of the soul ; 
and from them, whether by a gradual evolution or as- 
cent, we arrive at the highest.* Sense supplies images 
to memory. These become subjects for fancy to work 
upon. Reason considers and judges of the imagina- 
tions. And these acts of reason become new objects 
to the understanding. In this scale, each lower faculty 
is a step that leads to one above it. And the upper- 
most naturally leads to the Deity, which is rather the 
object of intellectual knowledge than even of the dis- 

* Sect. 275. 



siris* 391 

cursive faculty, not to mention the sensitive. There 
runs a chain throughout the whole system of beings. 
In this chain one link drags another. The meanest 
things are connected with the highest. Thecalamity 
therefore is neither strange nor much to be complained 
of, if a* low sensual reader shall, from mere love of the 
animal Hie, find himself drawn on, surprised, and be* 
trayed, into some curiosity concerning the intellectual. 
304. There is, according to Plato, properly no 
knowledge, but only opinion concerning things sensible 
and perishing,* not because they are naturally abstruse 
and involved in darkness : but because their nature and 
existence are uncertain, ever fleeting and changing. Or 
rather, because they do not in strict truth exist at all, 
being always generating or in Jieri, that is, in a perpe- 
tual flux, without any thing stable or permanent in them 
to constitute an object of real science. The Pythago- 
reans and Platonics distinguish between to yevofuvov and 
to ov, that which ever generated and that which exists. 
Sensible things and corporeal forms are perpetually pro* 
ducing and perishing*, appearing and disappearing, never, 
resting in one state, but always in motion and change ; 
and therefore, in effect, not one being but a succession 
of beings : while to ov is understood to be somewhat of 
an abstract or spiritual nature, and the proper object of 
intellectual knowledge. Therefore as there can be no 
knowledge of things flowing and unstable, the opinion 
of Protagoras and Thesetetus, that sense was science, i& 
absurd. And indeed nothing is more evident, than that 
the apparent sizes and shapes, for instance, of things are 
in a constant flux, ever differing as they are viewed at. 
different distances, or with glasses more or less accurate. 
As for those absolute magnitudes and figures, which 
certain Cartesians and other moderns suppose to be in 
things ; that must seem a vain supposition, to whoever 

• Sect. 962. 264. 



393 satis. 

considers, it is supported by no argument of reason, 
and no experiment of sense. 

305 . As understanding perceiveth not, that is, doth 
not hear or see or feel, so sense knoweth not : and al- 
though the mind may use both sense and fancy, as 
means whereby to arrive at knowledge, yet sense or soul, 
so far forth as sensitive, knoweth nothing. For, as it 
is rightly observed in the Theaetetus of Plato, science 
consists not in the passive perceptions, but in the rea- 
soning upon them, tw irepl cicctvw avWoyuTfiM* 

306. In the ancient philosophy of Plato and Pytha- 
goras, we find distinguished three sorts of objects : in the 
first place, a form or species that is neither generated 
nor destroyed, unchangeable, invisible, and altogether im- 
perceptible to sense, being only understood by the intel- 
lect. A second sort there is ever fluent and changing,* 
generating and perishing, appearing and vanishing. 
This is comprehended by sense and opinion. The third 
is matter, which, as Plato teacheth, being neither an ob- 
ject of understanding nor of sense, is hardly to be made 
out by a certain spurious way of reasoning, XoyurfuS rm 
*>0o> /uoyic irurov. (See his Timaeus.) The same doc- 
trine is contained in the Pythagoric treatise De Anima 
Mundi, which distinguishing ideas, sensible things, and 
matter, maketh the first to be apprehended by intellect, 
the second by sense, and the last, to wit, matter, Xoyujp* 
i*(0fe>. Whereof Themistius the Peripatetic assigns the 
reason. For, saith he, that act is to be esteemed spu- 
rious, whose object hath nothing positive, being only a 
mere privation, as silence or darkness. And such he 
accounteth matter. 

307. Aristotle maketh a threefold distinction of 
objects, according to three speculative sciences. Physics 
he supposeth to be conversant about such things as have 
a principle of motion in themselves, mathematics about 

• Sect. 292, 293. 



. sisfs. 90S: 

things permanent bat not abstracted, and theology about 
being abstracted and immoveable, which distinction 
may be seen in the ninth book of his Metaphysics, 
Where by abstracted, ywpurrov, he understands separable 
from corporeal beings and sensible qualities. 

308. That philosopher .held that the mind of man 
was a tabula rasa, and that there were no innate ideas. 
Plato, on the contrary, held original ideas in the mind, 
that is, notions which never were or can be in the sense, 
such as being, beauty, goodness, likeness, parity. Some 
perhaps may think the truth to be this : that there are 
properly no ideas or passive objects in the mind, but 
what were derived from sense : but that there are also 
besides these her own acts or operations : such are no- 
tions. 

3Q9* It is a maxim of the Platonic philosophy, that 
the soul of man was originally furnished with native, 
inbred notions, and stands in need of sensible occa- 
sions, not absolutely for producing them, but only for 
awakening, rousing, or exciting, into act what was al- 
ready pre-existent, dormant, and latent in the soul ; as 
things are said to be laid up in the memory, though not 
actually perceived, until they happen to be called forth 
and brought into view by other objects. This notion 
seemeth somewhat different from that of innate ideas, 
as understood by those moderns who have attempted to 
explode them. To understand and to be, are, according 
to Parmenides, the same thing. And Plato in his se- 
venth letter makes no difference between vovc and «n« 
ontpif, mind and knowledge. Whence it follows that 
mind, knowledge, and notions, either in habit or in 
act, always go together. 

310. And albeit Aristotle considered the soul in its 
original state as a blank paper, yet he held it to be the 
proper place of forms : T*v ^vx^Jv una. twov a$cw** 
Which doctrine first maintained by others he admits, 

• Sect. 269. 
VOL. III. 2D 



304 etttit. 

Under this resWctiort* that it is not to be understood of 
the whole soul but only of the tonrudi ; as is to be seen 
in his third book De Anitna, Whenoe, according to 
Theinistius in his commentary on that treatise* it may 
be inferred that all beings are in the Soul. Fbr, saith 
ke» the forms are the beings. By the form every thing 
is what it is. And he adds, it is the soul that imparteth 
£kms to matter ; «}v i^nv popcorn troucfXaic popfoQ. 
Therefore they are first in the soul. He ferther adds, that 
the mind is ail things* taking the forms of all things it 
becomes all things by intellect and sense. Alexander 
Aphrodiweui sAith as much, affirming the mind to be 

all thhlgS, K*ra to ri vbiiv rat to au&avtefai. And this 

in fad is Aristotle's own doctrine in his third book De 
Anima, where he also asserts, with Plato, that actual 
knowledge and the thing known are all one. TV «Jto 

S i&rlv if Kttt tvtpytiav Jirtonf/xfy ry HrpJrflian. Whence it 

follows theft the things are where the knowledge is, that 
ft to say, m the mind. Or, as it is otherwise expressed, 
that the sotil is all things. More might be said to ex- 
plain Aristotle's notion, but it would lead too for. 

311. As to an absolute actual existence of sensible 
or corporeal things,* it doth not seem to have been ad- 
mitted either by Plato or Aristotle. Ih the Theaetetns 
we are told, that if any one saith a thing is or is made, 
he must withal say, fbr what, Or of what, or in respect of 
what, it is or is made ; for, that any thing should exist 
in itself or absolutely is absurd. Agreeably to which 
doctrine it is also farther affirmed by Ffato, that it is 
impossible a thing should be sweet and sweet to nobody. 
It must nevertheless be owned with regard to Aristotle, 
that even in his Metaphysics there are tome expressions 
which seem to favour the absolute existence of corpo- 
real things. For instance, in the eleventh book, speak- 
ing of corporeal sensible things, what wOndfer, saitii he, 
if they never appear to us the same, no more than to 

• Seel. *64. 992: 294. 



urib. SOB 

tick men, sine* we act always changing and never *e- 
main the same ourselves ? And again, he saith, sensible 
things, although they receive no change in themaefcee, 
do nevertbdefs in sick persona produce different sensa- 
tion* and not the same. These passages would seem 
to imply a distmet and absolute existence of the ob» 
jeots of sense. 

312. But it must he observed, that Amtotie 
guisheth a twofold eatstence, potential and actual. It 
not therefore follow, that, according to Aristotle, because 
a thing is, it must actually exist* This is evident font 
the eighth botik of hfe Metaphysics, where he animadt 
verts on the Megaric philosophers, as not admitting e 
possible existence distinct from the actual : (ww whence 
eaith he, it must follow, that there is nothing cold of 
hot or sweet, or any sensible thing at all, where there if 
no perception. He adds, that in consequence of &et 
Megaric doctrine, we can have no sense but while • w& 
actually exert it : we are blind when we do not .see, and 
therefore both blind and deaf several times in a day. 

313. The mmX^yfUi *pZrm pf the Peripatetics, that 
ss, 'the sciences, arts, and habits, were by them dsetinr 
guisbed from the acts<Qr iyreX^mu .fewefpt, apd W$QQ&& 
loe&ist in the mind, though not exerted or put into act* 
5Tbis seems to illustrate the manner in wbioh Socrates, 
Plato, and their followers, conceive innate motions tQ 
be in the soul of man.* It was the Platonic doctrine, 
that human souls or minds descended from above, and 
were sowed in gen er ation, that they wane stunned, stu+ 
pefied, and intoxicated, by this descent and immersion 
into animal nature. And that the actpl,in this ovd^mg 
or slumber, forgets her original notions, which ew 
■smothered and oppressed by many false tenets and 
^prejudices of sense- I^som^ch that Produa compete 
<the soul, in her descent in vested with gue^ing pr^ir 
4ices,^o Glaucas diving to the bpttoni of the J^, and 

*$ect. 309, 

2D2 



306 BiRis. 

there contracting divers coats of sea-weed* coral, and 
shells, which stick close to him . and conceal his true 
.shape. 

314. Hence* according to this philosophy* the mind 
of man is so restless to shake off that slumber, to disen- 
engage and . emancipate herself from those prejudices 
and false opinions, that so straitly beset and cling to her, 
to rub off those covers that disguise her original form, 
land to regain her primeval state and first notions : hence 
that: perpetual struggle to recover the lost region of 
light, that ardent thirst and endeavour after truth and 
intellectual ideas, which she would neither seek to at- 
tain, nor rejoice in, nor know when attained, except she 
had some prenotion or anticipation of them, and they 
had lain innate and dormant like habits and sciences in 
the mind, or things laid up, which are called out and 
roused by recollection or reminiscence. . So that learn* 
ing seemeth in effect reminiscence. 

315. The Peripatetics themselves distinguish be* 
tween reminiscence and mere memory. Tbemistius 
observes that commonly the best memories go with the 
worst parts ; but that reminiscence is most perfect in 
the most ingenious minds. And notwithstanding the 
tabids rasa of Aristotle,* yet some of his followers have 
undertaken to make him speak Plato's sense. Thus 
Plutarch the Peripatetic teacheth, as agreeable to his 
master's doctrine, that learning is reminiscence, and 
that the vwc xaff c&v is in children. Simplicius also, in 
his commentary on the third book of Aristotle, vcp! 4"Xtft 
speaketh of a certain interior reason in the soul, acting 
of itself, and originally full of its own proper notions, 

3 r6. And, as the Platonic philosophy supposed in- 
tellectual notions to be originally inexistent or innate in 
the soul,f so likewise it supposed sensible qualities to 
«xist (though, not originally) in the soul, and there only. 

• Sect. $08. t Sect. 309. 314. 



Sl*!5. 307 

Socrates saith to Thesetetus, you must not think the 
white colour that you see is in any thing without your 
eyes, or in your eyes, or in any place at alt. And in the 
Timaeus, Plato teacheth, that the figure and motion of 
the particles of fire dividing the parts of our bodies pro- 
duce that painful sensation we call heat. And Plotinus, 
in the sixth book of his second iEneid, observes that 
heat and other qualities are not qualities in the things 
themselves, but acts : that heat is not a quality, but act 
in the fire : that fire is not really what we perceive in 
the qualities light, heat, and colour. From all which it 
is plain, that whatever real things they suppose to exist 
independent of the soul, those were neither sensible 
things nor clothed with sensible qualities. 

31 7. Neither Plato nor Aristotle by matter, «X*, 
understood corporeal substance, whatever the moderns 
may understand by that word. To them certainly it 
signified no positive actual being. Aristotle describes it 
as made up of negatives, having neither quantity nor 
quality nor essence. And not only the Platonists and 
Pythagoreans, but also the Peripatetics themselves, declare 
it to be known, neither by sense, nor by any direct and 
just reasoning, but only by some spurious or adulterine 
method, as hath been observed before. Simon Portius, 
a famous Peripatetic of the sixteenth century, denies it 
to be any substance at all, for, saith he, " nequit per se 
subsistere quia sequeretur, id quod non est in actu esse 
in actu." If Jamblichus may be credited, the Egyptians 
supposed matter so far from including aught of sub- 
stance or essence, that, according to them, God produced 
it by a separation from all substance, essence, or being, 

awo otnnonyroc iwoGyiafkurns iXirrtroq. That matter 18 ac- 
tually nothing, but potentially all things, is the doc- 
trine of Aristotle, Theophrast us, and all the ancient Pe- 
ripatetics* 

318. According to those philosophers, matter is- 
only a pura poteniia, a mere possibility . But Anax'ftnan 



396 fliai*. 

dfcr, sDbcessor to Thales* is representei as having 
thought the supreme Deity to be infinite matter. Ne~ 
vrirtheless though Plutarch calleth it matter, yet it was 
■imply to &rnpovi which means no more than infinite or 
indefinite* Arid although die modern* teach that space 
is real Mid infinitely ettended* yet if we consider that 
it is no intellectual notion* nor yet perorivai by any of 
our derates, We Shall perhaps be inclined to think with 
Plato In his Timtaus* that this also is the result of 
Arywjioc vo0sci or Sgwrious reasoning* and a kind of wak- 
ing difeartt. Plato observes that we dream, as it were» 
when we think of place* and believe it necessary, that 
Whatever exiftts should exist in. some place* Which 
place or space,* he also observes, is p* «t«t*6*m*c «w*J? 
that is* to be felt as darkness is seen* or silence heard, 
being a metfe privation. 

31$. If any one should think to Infer the reality or 
actual being bf matter from the modem tenet, tfaat gra- 
vity is ilways prtportionabte to the quantity of matter* 
kt him but narrowly scan the modem demonstration of 
that tenet, and he will find it to be a vain circle, oon+ 
dnding it truth to more than this* that gravity is pro- 
portionable to weight, that is, to itself. Since matter is 
conceited only as defect and mere possibility 6 and since 
God is absolute .perfection and acts it follows there ia 
the greatest distance land opposition imaginable between 
God and matter, irtsomufch that a material God wo*U 
be altogether iofconbistent. 

820t The force thftt produces* the intellect that or- 
der*, the goodness that perfects* all things, is the supreme 
Being. Evil, defect, negation, 'is not the otgeot of God's 
creative power. From Htdtioa the Peripatetics taaoe 
out a fitet immoveable toorer. The Platftfties mike 
God author of idlgood* auditor of too evil, *ftd un- 
changeable. According to Anaxagoras there was a con- 
futed faae* of all things in one chaos* but mindsuper- 

*8fcet.g®.fW. 



WoiftgV wXttv, distinguish me} divided (hftm* Aa« 
atagprpfc it seemq, ascribed the naotiYfl fepulty to mind,* 
\fhich piind 901119 subsequent philosophers hate aoci*- 
rately discriminated from soul and life, afcribgig to il> 
the sole faculty of ifltellectiqiu 

32 J. But still God was supposed thpfirat agent, the 
source and original of all thing* which he produoeth, 
not occasionally or wstruqieBtaUy, but with actual audi 
real efficacy. Thus the treatise Qe Sewetiore Parte' 
Divin& Sapfentka secundum <££gyptkfe, in the tehtfr 
book saith of God, that hie is pot only the firat agent, 
but also that he it is wbp truly art* or creates, " qui Yisre 
efficit" 

322. Varrq, Tuliy, apd St, Augttftitv mroterttabd 
the soul to bje w, the power or force tbtt acts, mores, 
enlivens. Now although, in our conception, vis, or 
spirit, might he distinguished from wttd> it would not. 
thence follow, that it acts blindly or without *nibd,or 
that it is not closely connected with intellect. If Pluk; 
torch is to be trusted ip hi* account of the opinion^ of ; 
philosophers, Thales h^d the nmd of the world tQfo? 
God ; Democritus held tte *wi of the wcrid to be ait 
ignifonaa deity-* Pythagora* teugfaft /that God ma the 
monad and the good, or r ay*6v* * £ogi?it& alafr end 
Plato pronounced him to jbe the m jfr,f the ftftgle* fd& 
originate one, essentially good* Bedb Of mbkh apt»ek" 
lations and fonps of speech directly teeris W artd 4ete*t 
mines in mind, w i*# nfo *f«*S««, eafth Mutatfcb. 

323. Whence that author qoflekek*, that in the 
sense of thoae philoappHer^<^iaeintnd^xe^Hrffw 

not an abstract idea .eoftpptiiided of inocp#itfeBCiee*ndt 
prescinded from all real temp* fts aoxne itoodewhs undemt 
stand abstraction ; but a really emtidg aptot* dtalMMftjar.; 
separate 60m all sewible end corporeal betogs* And 
although the Stoky are represented e* btoldit^g a aoi* ; 
poreal deity, or that the very system of the world is 

♦ Sect, 14& i*. £77. t *** J«7. 



400* SIRI8. 

... ■ ■ ■ • • 

God, yet it is certain they did not, at bottom, dissent' 
from the forementioned doctrine; inasmuch as they 
supposed the world to be an animal,* consisting of soul 
or mind as well as body. 

324. This notion was derived from the Pythago- 
reans, who held the world, as Timaeus Loons teacheth, 
to be one perfect animal, endued with soul and reason : 
but then they believed it to have been generated: 1 
whereas the Stoics looked on the world as the supreme- 
God, including therein mind or intellect. For the ele- 
mentary fire, or, if one may so speak, the animal spirit 
of the world, seemeth, according to them, to have been 
the vehicle of the soul,f intellect or voile ; since they 
styled the Divinity wvp vo*pov,% or intellectual fire. 

325. The Egyptians, if we may credit the Hermaic 
writings, maintained God to be all things, not only 
actual but possible. He is styled by them, That which 
is made and that which is unmade. And therein it is 
said, Shall I praise thee for those things thou hast made 
manifest, or for the things thou hast hidden ? There- 
fore, in their sense, to manifest was to create; the 
things created having been before hidden in God. 

326. Now, whether the vovc be abstracted from the 
sensible world, and considered by itself, as distinct from, 
and presiding over, the created system, or whether the 
whole universe, including mind together with the mun- 
dane body, is conceived to be God,§ and the creatures 
to be partial manifestations of the Divine essence, there 
is no atheism in either case, whatever misconceptions 
there may be ; so long as mind or intellect is understood 
to preside over, govefn, and conduct, the whole frame of 
things. And this was the general prevailing opinion 
among the philosophers. 

327. Nor if any one, with Aristotle in his Meta- 
physics, should deny that God knows any thing without 

• Sect. 276. 279. f Sect. 277. 284. 

t Sect. 272. $ Sect 300. 



siris; 401 

himself; seeing that God comprehends all things, could 
this be justly pronounced an atheistical opinion. Nop 
even was the following notion of the same author to be 
accounted atheism, to wit, that there are some things 
beneath the knowledge of God, as too mean, base, and 
vile ; however wrong this notion may be, and unworthy 
of the Divine perfection. 

328. Might we not conceive that God maybe said 
to be all in divers senses ; as he is the cause and origin 
of all beings ; as the wwc is the mrra, a doctrine both of 
Platonics and Peripatetics,* as the vou? is the place of 
all fortps, and as it is the same which comprehends and 
orders and sustains the whole mundane system.f Ari- 
stotle declares, that the Divine force or influence per- 
meates the entire universe,;}; and that what the pilot is 
in a ship, the driver in a chariot, the precentor in a 
choir, the law in a city, the general in an army, the 
same God is in the world. This he amply sets forth 
in his book De Mundo, a treatise which, having been 
anciently ascribed to him, ought not to be set aside from 
the difference of style, which (as Patricius rightly ob- 
serves), being in a letter to a king, might well be sup- 
posed to differ from the other dry and crabbed parts of 
his writings. 

329. And although there are some expressions to be 
met with in the philosophers, even of the Platonic and 
Aristotelic sects, which speak of God as mixing with, 
or pervading all nature and all die elements ; yet this 
must be explained by force and not by extension, which 
was never attributed to the mind,§ either by Aristotle or 
Plato. This they always affirmed to be incorporeal ; and, 
as Plotinus remarks, incorporeal things are distant each 
from other not by place, but (to use his expression) by 
alterity. 

330. These disquisitions will probably seem dry and 

♦ Sect 509, 310. t Sect. 320. 

\ Sect- 173. f Sect. 890. 293. 297. 319. 



40$ 5iw«. 

*4ek*$, to *wh rbeddrs as are accustomed to cfctoside* 
only sensible objects The employment of the mind 
en things purely intellectual is to most men irksome* 
whereas the sensitive powers, bjr constant use, acquire 
Strength. Hence, the ctigecta of tense ntese forcibly 
affect us,* and are too often counted the chief gpod* 
For these things men fight, cheat, a&d scramble. There- 
fore, in order to tame maftkiad and introduce a sense of 
virtue* the best human means is to exercise their «n- 
dertitandingt to give them a glimpse of another world, 
Superior to the sensible, and while they take pains to 
dherish and maintain the animal life* to teach them not 
to neglect the intellectual. . 

831. Prevailing studies are of no small eotaequencn 
to a state, the religion, manners, and civil government* 
of a country, ever taking some bias from its philosophy, 
which affects not only the minds of its profesttra and 
students, but also the opinions of all the bette#*oit, and 
the practice of the whole people, remotely and conse- 
quentially indeed, though not inconsiderably. Have not 
the polemic and scholastic philosophy been observed to 
produce controversies in law and religion ? And have 
not fatalism and Sadducism gained ground, during die 
general passion for the corpuscularian and mechanical 
philosophy, which hath prevailed for aboot a century ? 
ThiB indeed might usefully enough have employed 
some share of the leisure and ctarioaity of inquisitive 
persons. But when it entered the seminaries of learn- 
ing as a necessary acoompiishment, and most important 
part of education, by engrossing men's thoughts, and 
fixing their minds so much on corporeal objects, and the 
laws of motion, it hath, however undesignedly, indi- 
rectly, and by accident, yet not a little indisposed them 
for spiritual, moral, and intellectual matters. Cer- 
tainly had the philosophy of Socrates and Pythagoras 
prevailed in this age, among those who think them- 

* Sect. 364. 294. 



»Bi«i 409 

edvefc too wise id rtcervc the dictates of the gospel, we 
should Dot hav6 seen intefest take so general and fast 
hold on the minds of men, nor public spirit reputed to 
be ywnSuv twjfcmv, a generous folly, among those who 
are reckoned to be the most knowing as well as the 
most gettirtg part of mankind. 

3S&. It might very well be thought seriou* trifling 
to tell my readers, that the greatest rtien had ever a 
high esteem for Plato; whose writings are the toiicb- 
' stone of a hasty and shallow mind ; whose philosophy 
has been the admiration of ages; which supplied pa- 
triots* magistrates, and lawgivers, to die most flourishing 
states, as well as fethere to the church, and doctors ta 
the schools. Albeit in these days, the depths of that 
old learning are rarely fathomed, and yet it were happy 
for these linds, if our young nobility and gentry, instead 
of modern maiinrwt, would imbibe the notions of the 
great men of antiquity. But in these freethinking 
times many an empty head is fehook at Aristotle and 
Plato, afe well te at the Holy Scriptures. And the writ- 
ings of those celebrated ancients are by most men. 
treated on a foot with the dry and barbarous lucubra- 
tions of the scbooiom. It may be modestly presumed,, 
there are not many amofng us, even of those who 
are called ithe better sort, who have more sense, virtue, 
aod love of their country, than Cicero, who in a letter 
to Atticns ceroid not forbear exclaiming, " O Socrates et 
Socrttkri viril knmquam vobis gmtiam referam*" Would 
to God many of our countrymen had the same obliga- 
tion* to ihose >Sooratic writers 1 Certainly where the. 
people are well educated, the art of piloting a state is 
best learned from the writings of Plato. But among 
bad men void of discipline and edocatkm, Plato, Pytha*' 
got**, arid Aristotle, themselves, were they living, could . 
do but tittle good* Plata Jnth 'drawn a very humorous 
and instructive picture uf auch a stated Which I shall; 
not transcribe for certain reasons* . But whoever has a 



404 tfifii*. 

mind, may see it in the seventy-eighth page of the 
second tome of Aldus's edition of Plato's works. 

333. Proclus, in the first book of his commentary 
on the theology of Plato, observes, that, as in the mys- 
teries; those who are initiated, at first meet with mani- 
fold and multiform gods, but being entered and tho- 
roughly initiated they receive the Divine illumination 
and participate the very Deity ; in like manner, if the 
soul looks abroad, she beholds the shadows and images 
of things : but returning into herself «he unravels and 
beholds her own essence : at first she seeroeth only to 
behold herself: but having penetrated farther die dis- 
covers the mind. And again, still farther advancing 
into the innermost sanctuary of the soul she contem- 
plates the fffuv 7&>oc. And this, he saith, is the most 
excellent of all hiiman acts, in the silence and repose of 
the faculties of the soul to tend upwards to the very 
Divinity ; to approach and be closely joined with that 
which is ineffable and superior to all beings. When 
come so high as the first principle, she ends her journey 
and rests. Such is the doctrine of Proclus. 

334. But Socrates in the first Aldbiades teacheth 
on the other hand, that the contemplation of God i* the 
proper means to know or understand our own soul. As 
the eye, saith he, looking steadfastly at the visive part or 
pupil of another eye, beholds itself, even so the soul be- 
holds and understands herself, while she contemplates 
the Deity, which is wisdom and virtue or like thereunto. 
In the Phaedon, Socrates speaks of God as being rayuBov 
and to &ov ;* Plotinus represents God as order ; Ari- 
stotle as law. 

335. It may seem perhaps, to those who have been 
taught to discourse about substratums, more reasonable 
and pious, to attribute to the Deity a more substantial 
being than the notional entities of wisdom, order, law, 
virtue or goodness, which being only complex ideas, 

* Sect. 260* 320. 



SIHI0. 40? 

framed and put together by the understanding, are it* 
own creatures, and have nothing substantial, real, or in T 
dependent, in them. But it must be considered, that 
in the Platonic system, order, virtue, law, goodness, 
and wisdom, are not creatures of the soul of man, but 
innate and originally existent therein, not as an accident 
in a substance, but as light to enlighten, and as a guide 
to govern. In Plato's style, the term idea doth not 
merely signify an inert inactive object of the understand- 
ing, but is used as synonymous with ainov and ipx** 
cause and principle. According to that philosopher, 
goodness, beauty, virtue, and such-like, are not figment* 
of the mind, nor mere mixed modes, nor yet abstract 
ideas in the modern sense, but the most real beings, in- 
tellectual and unchangeable: and therefore more real 
than the fleeting transient objects of sense,* which 
wanting stability cannot be subjects of science,! much 
less of intellectual knowledge. 

336. By Parmenides, Timseus, and Plato, a distinc- 
tion was made, as hath been observed already, between 
gentium and ens. The former sort is always gene- 
rating or in Jleri 9 ^ but never exists, because it never 
continues the same, being in a constant change, ever 
perishing and producing. By entia they understand 
things remote from sense, invisible and intellectual, 
which never changing are still the same, and may there- 
fore be said truly to exist, ovaia, which is generally trans- 
lated substance, but more properly essence, was not 
thought to belong to things sensible and corporeal, 
which have no stability ; but rather to intellectual ideaq, 
though discerned with more difficulty, and making leas 
impression on a mind stupefied and immersed in animal 
life, than gross objects that continually beset and solicit 
our senses. ._■ 

337 . The most refined human intellect exerted to its 

• Sect SOS- t S**- K*- t66 - *97- t Sect - SO*. 306. 



408 snuff. 

utmost reach, can only seize some, imperfect glimpses 
of the Divine ideas,* abstracted from all things corpo- 
real, sensible, and imaginable. Therefore Pythagoras 
and Pbtb treated them in a mysterious manner, con- 
cealing rather than exposing them to vulgar eyes ; 00 
fcr were they from thinking, that those abstract things, 
although the most real, were the fittest to influence 
common minds, or become principles of knowledge, not 
to say duty and virtue, to the generality of mankind. 

338. Aristotle and his followers have made a mon- 
strous representation of the Platonic ideas ; and some 
of Plato's own school have said very odd things concern* 
ing them. But if that philosopher himself was not read 
only, but studied also with care, and made his own in- 
terpreter, I believe the prejudice that now See against 
him, would soon wear off,f or be even converted into 
high esteem for those exalted notions and fine hints, 
that sparkle and shine throughout his writings which 
seem to contain not only the most valuable learning 
of Athens and Greece, but also a treasure of the most 
remote traditions and early science of the east. 

339. In the Timaeus of Plato mention is made of 
ancient persons, authors of traditions, and the off- 
-spring of the gods. It is very remarkable, that in the 
account of the creation contained in the same piece, it 
is said that God was pleased with his work, and that 
the night is placed before the day. The more we think, 
the more difficult shall we find it to conceive, how mere 
<man, grown up in the vulgar habits of life, and weighed 
<down by sensuality, should ever be able to arrive at 
'science, without some tradition or teaching, J which 
might either sow the seeds of knowledge, or call forth 
and excite those .latent seeds that were originally sown 
in the soul. 

340. Human souls in this low situation, bordering 

♦Sect. SIS. MO. + Sect. 309. 515. t Sect. 299. 501 * 502. 



amis* 407 

On mere animal life, bear the weight fend see through 
the dusk of a gross atmosphere, gathered from wrong 
judgments daily passed, false opinions daily learned, and 
early habits of an older date than either judgment or 
opiftkm. Through audi a medium the sharpest eye 
cannot see clearly * And if by some extraordinary ef- 
fort the mind should surmount this dusky region, am) 
snatch a glimpse of pure light, she is soon drawn back- 
Wards, and depressed by the heaviness of the animal 
Mature to whieh she is chained. And if again she 
chanceth, amidst the agitation of wild fancies and strong 
affections, to spring upwards, a second relapse speedily 
succeeds into this region of darkness and dreams. 

341. Nevertheless, as the mind gathers strength 
by repeated acts, we should not despond, but continue 
to exert the prime and flower of our faculties, still reco- 
vering, and reaching on, and struggling, into the upper 
region, whereby our natural weakness and blindness 
may be in some degree remedied, and a taste attained 
of truth and intellectual life. Beside the constant pre- 
vailing opinion of the greatest men of antiquity, that 
there is both a universal spirit, author of life and mo- 
tion, and a universal mind, enlightening and ordering all 
things, it was a received tenet among them, that there 
is also to tv or r ayoftw,f which they looked on as the 
Jbm deitattSy the first hypostasis in the Divinity. 

842. The one or to Sv, being immutable and indi- 
visible, always the same and entire, was therefore 
thought to exist truly and originally, and other things 
only so far as they are one and the same, by participa- 
tion of to ev. This gives unity, stability, and reality, to 
things/}; Plato describes God, as Moses, from his be- 
ing* According to both, God is he who truly is, # 
avrtfc &• Change and division were esteemed defects, 
or bad. Evil scatters, divides, destroys. Good, on 
the contrary, produoeth concord and union, assembles, 

• Ssct. 292, 893, 294. + *•*. OR. J Sect. 264. 306. 



408 HHtt. 

combines; perfects; and preserves "entire. The sereral 
beings which compose the universe are parts of the 
same system, they cotobine to carry on one end, and 
perfect one whole. And this aptness and concurrence 
thereunto furnish the partial particular idea of good in 
the distinct creatures. Hence it might have come to 
pass, that ra-yafcV and ™> i* were regarded as one 
and the same. 

343. Light and sight (saith Plato in the sixth book 
of his Republic) Are not the sun : even so troth and 
knowledge are not the good itself, although they ap- 
proach thereunto. And again, what the sun is in a 
visible. place with respect to sight and things seen, that 
same isT ayaflov or good in an intelligible place, with re- 
spect to understanding and things understood. There- 
fore the good or one is not the light that enlightens, 
but the source of that light. 

343 • Every moment produceth • some change in the 
parts of this visible creation. Something is added or 
diminished, or altered, in essence, quantity, quality, or 
habitude. Wherefore all generated beings were said 
by the ancients to be in a perpetual flux.* And that 
which, on a confused and general view, seems one sin- 
gle constant being, shall upon a nearer inspection ap- 
pear a continued series of different beings. But God 
remains for ever one and the same. Therefore God . 
alone exists. This was the doctrine of Heraclitus, Pla- 
to, and other ancients. 

345. It is the opinion of Plato and his followers, 
that in the soul of man, prior and superior to intellect, 
there is somewhat of a higher nature, by virtue of 
which we are one ; and that by means of our one or 
unit, we are most closely joined to the Deity. And, 
as by our intellect we touch the Divine intellect, even 
so by our to iv or unit, the very flower of our essence, 
as Proclus expresseth it, we touch the first one. 

* Sect. 304. 336. 



sibis. 400 

346. According to the Platonic philosophy, ens and 
unum are the same. And consequently our minds, par- 
ticipate so far of existence as they do of unity. But it 
should seem that personality is the indivisible centre of 
the soul or mind, which is a monad so far forth as she 
is a person. Therefore person is really that which ex- 
ists, inasmuch as it participates the Divine unity. In 
man the monad or indivisible is the avro to avro the 
self-same, self, or very self, a thing in the opinion of 
Socrates, much and narrowly to be inquired into and 
discussed, to the end that, knowing ourselves, we may 
know what belongs to ourselves and to our happiness. 

347* Upon mature reflection the person ox mind, of 
all created beings, seemeth alone indivisible, and to par- 
take most of unity. But sensible things are rather con- 
sidered as one than truly so, they being in a perpetual 
flux of. succession, ever differing and various. Never- 
theless all things together may be considered as one uni- 
verse,* one by the connexion, relation, and order, of 
its parts, which is the work of mind, whose unit is, by 
Platonics, supposed a participation of the first to tv. 

348. Socrates, in the These tetus of Plato, speaketh 
of two parties of philosophers, the pcovrcc and oi rov 6Xov 
trraatuTaii the flowing philosophers who held all things to 
be in a perpetual flux, always generating and never ex- 
isting ; and those others who maintained the universe 
to be fixed and immoveable. The difference seems to 
have been this, that Heraclitus, Protagoras, Empedo- 
cles, and in general those of the former sect, consider- 
ing things sensible and, natural ; whereas Parmenides 
and his party considered to vav> not as the sensible but 
as the intelligible world, f abstracted from all sensible 
.things. 

. 349. In effect, if we mean by things the sensible 
objects ; these, it is evident, are always flowing ; but if 
we mean things purely intelligible, then we. may say on 

* Sect. 287, 288. t Sect 298, 294, 295. 

VOL. in. 2 E 



410 si&is. 

the other hpnd, with equal truth, that they are immove- 
able and unchangeable. So that those, who thought the 
wholeor roiravtobeSyWcK^ a fixed or permanent one, 
seem to have understood the whole of real beings, which 
in their sense was only the intellectual world, not allow- 
ing reality of being to things not permanent. 

350. The displeasure of some readers may perhaps 
be incurred, by surprising them into certain reflections 
and inquiries for which they have no curiosity. But per- 
haps some others may be pleased, to find a dry subject 
varied by digressions, traced through remote inferences, 
and carried into ancient times, whose hoary maxims,* 
scattered in this essay, are not proposed as principles, but 
barely as hints to awaken and exercise the inquisitive 
reader, on points not beneath the attention of the ablest 
men. Those great men, Pythagoras, Plato, and Ari- 
stotle, the most consummate in politics, who founded 
states, or instructed princes, or wrote most accurately 
on public government, were at the same time most 
acute at all abstracted and sublime speculations ; the 
clearest light being ever necessary to guide the most im- 
portant actions. And whatever the world thinks, he 
who hath not much meditated upon God, the human 
mind, and the summum bonum, may possibly make a 
thriving earthworm, but will most indubitably make a 
sorry patriot and a sorry statesman. 

351. According to the nice metaphysics of those 
ancient philosophers ™ e», being considered as what was 
first and simplest in the Deity, was prescinded even from 
entity to which it was thought prior and superior ; and 
is therefore by the Platonics styled superessential. And 
in the Parmenides it is said, to ev doth not exist ; which 
might seem to imply a negation of the Divine Being. 
The truth is, Zeno and Parmenides argued, that a thing 
existing in time was older and younger than itself; 
therefore the constant immutable t© \v did not exist in 

♦Sect 298. 301. 



SIRIS. 411 

time : and if not in time, then in none of the differences 
of time past, present, or to come ; therefore we can* 
not say that it was, is, or will be. But nevertheless it is 
admitted in the same Parmenides, that to viv is every 
where present to to ev ; that is, instead of a tempo- 
rary succession of moments, there is one eternal now, 
of punctum stan$ 9 as it is termed by the schoolmen. 

352. The simplicity of to tv (the father in the Py- 
thagoric and Platonic trinity) is conceived such as to 
exclude intellect or mind, to which it is supposed prior ; 
and that hath created a suspicion of atheism in this opi- 
nion : for, saith the learned Doctor Cudworth, shall we 
say that the first hypostasis or person is ivovq and aXoyoc* 
senseless and irrational, and altogether devoid of mind 
and understanding ? or would not this be to introduce 
a kind of mysterious atheism ? To which it may be an- 
swered, that whoever acknowledgeth the universe to be 
made and governed by an eternal mind, cannot be justly 
deemed an atheist.* And this was the tenet of those 
ancient philosophers. In the Platonic doctrine, the 
generation of the vavg or Ao-yo? was not contingent but 
necessary, not temporary but from everlasting. There 
never was a time supposed wherein to tv subsisted with- 
out intellect, the priority having been understood only 
as a priority of order or conception, but not a priority of 
age. Therefore, the maintaining a distinction of pri- 
ority between to ev and vovc doth not infer that t\\e one 
ever existed without the other. It follows, therefore, 
that the father or to ev may, in a certain sense, be said to 
be ovovq without atheism, or without destroying the no- 
tion of a Deity any more than it would destroy the notion 
of a human soul, if we should conceive a distinction be- 
tween self and intellect, or intellect and life. To which 
we may farther add, that it is a doctrine of Platonics, 
and agrees with their master's tenets, to say that to «*, or 
the first hypothesis, contains all excellence and perfeo 

* Sect. 154. 276. 279. 287. 
2B2 



412 siris. 

tion, whereof it is the original source, and is more emi- 
nent, as the schools speak, intellect and life, as well as 
goodness ; while the second hypostasis is essentially intel- 
lect, and by participation goodness and life ; and the third, 
life essentially, and by participation goodness and intellect. 

353. Therefore, the whole being considered, it will 
not seem just, to fix the imputation of atheism upon 
those philosophers, who held the doctrine of to ev ; whe- 
ther it be taken in an abstracted or collective, a meta- 
physical or merely vulgar, meaning ;* that is, whether 
we prescind unity from essence and intellect, since me- 
taphysical distinctions of the Divine attributes do not in 
reality divide them ; or whether we consider the univer- 
sal system of beings as one, since the union, connexion, 
and order, of its members, do manifestly infer a mind or 
intellect to be cause thereof. 

354. The one or to Iv may be conceived either by 
composition or division. For as, on the one hand, we 
may say the world or universe is one whole or one ani- 
mal ; so we may, on the other hand; consider to cv by 
division or abstraction, as somewhat in the order of 
things prior to mind. In either sense there is no athe- 
ism, so long as mind is admitted to preside and direct 
the animal ; and so long as the unum or to cv is sup- 
posed not to exist without mind.f So that neither 
Heraclitus, nor Parmenides, nor Pythagoras, nor Plato, 
neither the Egyptians nor Stoics, with their doctrine 
of a Divine whole or animal, nor Xenophanes with his 
Sv kcu irav, are justly, to be accounted atheists. There- 
fore modern atheism, be it of Hobbes, Spinosa, Collins, 
or whom you will, is not to be countenanced by the 
learning and great names of antiquity. 

355. Plato teacheth, that the doctrine concerning 
the one or unit is a means, to lead and raise the mind 
to the knowledge of him who truly is.J And it is a 
tenet both of Aristotle and Plato, that identity is a certain 

* Sect 300. f Sect. 287, 288. J Sect. 294, 295. 



siris. 413 

unity. The Pythagoreans also, as well as the Platonic 
philosophers, held unum and ens to be the same. Con- 
sistently- with which, that only can be said to exist 
which is one and the same. In things sensible and ima- 
ginable, as such, there seems to be no unity, nothing 
that may.be called one, prior to all act of the mind ; 
since they being in themselves aggregates, consisting of 
parts or compounded of elements, are in effect many. 
Accordingly it is remarked by Themistius, the learned 
interpreter of Aristotle, that to collect many notions 
into one,, and to consider them as one, is the work of 
intellect and not of sense or fancy. 

356. Aristotle himself, in his third book of the Soul, 
saith it is the mind that maketh each thing to be one, 

to $c cv irocovv rwro o vovg vca<rrov. How this IS done, 

Themistius is more particular, observing, that as being 
conferreth essence, the mind by virtue of her simplicity 
conferreth simplicity upon compounded beings. And, 
indeed, it seemeth that the mind, so far forth as person, 
is individual,* therein resembling the Divine one by 
participation, and imparting to other things what itself 
participates from above. This is agreeable to the doc- 
trine of the ancients, however the contrary opinion of 
supposing number to be an original primary quality in 
things, independent of the mind, may obtain among 
the moderns. 

; 357. The Peripatetics taught, that in all divisible 
things there was somewhat indivisible, and in all com- 
pounded things somewhat simple. This they derived 
from an act of the mind. And neither this simple 
indivisible unit, nor any sum of repeated units, con- 
sequently no number can be separated from the things 
themselves and from the operation of the mind. The- 
mistius goeth so far as to affirm, that it cannot be sepa- 
rated from the words or signs ; and, as it cannot be ut- 
tered without them, so saith he, neither can it lie con- 

* Sect. 3*5, 346, S47. 



414 siris. 

ceived without them. Thus much upon the whole 
may be concluded, that distinct from the mind and her 
operations, there is in created beings neither unit nor 
number. 

358. Of inferior beings the human mind, self, or 
person, is the most simple and undivided essence.* And 
the supreme Father is the most perfect one. Therefore 
die flight of the mind towards God is called by the Pla- 
tonics <pvyn pAvou rpoc /tiovov. The supretne Being, 
saith Plotinus, as he excludes all diversity, is ever alike 
present. And we are then present to him, when, re- 
collected and abstracted from the world and sensible 
objects, we are most free and disengaged from all va- 
riety, j* He adds, that in the institution of the supreme 
Deity the soul finds her wisbed-for end and repose; 
which that philosopher calls awaking out of his body 
into himself. 

359. In the tenth book of the Arcane, tir Divine 
Wisdom of the Egyptians, we are taught that the su- 
preme Being is not the cause of any created thing; but 
that he produced or made the Word ; and that all created 
beings were made by the Word, which is accordingly 
styled the Cause of all causes : and that this was also 
the doctrine of the Chaldeans. Plato, likewise, in his 
letter to Hermias, Erastus, and Coriscus, speaks of Go4, 
the ruler and cause of all things, as having a father : 
and, in his Epinomis, he expressly teacheth that the 
Word or \6yoc made the world. Accordingly Saint 
Augustine, in his commentary on the beginning of Saint 
John's Gospel, having declared that Christ is the wisdom 
of God by which all things were made, observes that this 
doctrine was also found in the writings of philosophers, 
who taught that God had an only begotten Son by 
whom are all things. 

360. Now, though Plato had joined with an ima- 
gination the most splendid and magnificent, an intellect 

* Sect. 347. t Sect. 268. 



sijris. 415 

not less deep and clear ; yet it is not to be supposed, 
that either he or any other philosophers of Greece or 
the east, had by the light of nature obtained an adequate 
notion of the holy- Trinity, nor even that their imper- 
fect notion, so far as it went, was exactly just ; nor 
perhaps that those sublime hints, which dart forth like 
flashes of light in the midst of a profound darkness, 
were originally struck from the hard rock of human 
reason ; but rather derived, at least in part, by a Divine 
tradition from the author of all things.* It seems a 
remarkable confirmation of this, what Plotinus observed 
in his fifth ^Eneid, that this doctrine of a Trinity, father, 
mind, and soul, was no late invention, but an ancient 
tenet. 

361. Certain it is, that the notion of a Trinity is to 
be found in the writings of many old heathen philoso- 
phers, that is to say, a notion of three Divine hypostases. 
Authority, light, and life, did, to the eye of reason, 
plainly appear to support, pervade, and animate, the mun- 
dane system or macrocosm. The same appeared in the 
microcosm, preserving soul and body, enlightening the 
mind, and moving the affections. And these were con* 
ceived to be necessary universal principles, coexisting 
and co-operating in such sort as never to exist asunder, 
but on the contrary to constitute one sovereign of all 
things. And, indeed, how could power or authority 
avail or subsist without knowledge? or either with- 
out life and action ? 

362. In the administration of all things there is 
authority to establish, law to direct, and justice to exe- 
cute. There is first the source of all perfection, or Jims 
Deitatu ; secondly, the supreme reason, order, or Xoyoc ; 
and lastly, the spirit which quickens and inspires. We 
are sprung from the Father, irradiated or enlightened by 
the Son, and moved by the Spirit. Certainly, that there 
is Father, Son, and Spirit ; that these bear analogy to the 

♦Sect. 298. 901. 



410 si Rid. 

sun, light, and heat ; and are otherwise expressed by 
the terms principle, mind, and soul ; by one or to tv, 
intellect and life; by good, word, and love; and that 
generation was not attributed to the second hypostasis, 
the vovg or Aoyoe, in respect of time,* but only in respect 
of origin and order, as an eternal necessary emanation ; 
these are the express tenets of Platonists, Pythagoreans, 
Egyptians, and Chaldeans. 

363. Though it may be well presumed there is no- 
thing to be found on that sublime subject in human 
writings, which doth not bear the sure signatures of 
humanity ; yet it cannot be denied, that several fathers 
of the church have thought fit to illustrate the Christian 
doctrine of the holy Trinity, by similitudes and expres- 
sions borrowed from the most eminent heathens, whom 
they conceived to have been no strangers to that mys- 
tery ; as hath been plainly proved by Bessarian, Eugu- 
binus, and Doctor Cudworth. 

364. Therefore, how unphilosophical soever that 
doctrine may seem to many of the present age, yet it is 
•certain, the men of greatest fame and learning among 
the ancient philosophers held a Trinity in the Godhead. 
It must be owned, that upon this point some later Plato- 
nists of the gentile world seem to have bewildered them- 
selves (as many Christians have also done), while they 
pursued the hints derived from their predecessors, with 
too much curiosity. 

365. But Plato himself considered that doctrine as 
a venerable mystery, not to be lightly treated of, or 
rashly divulged. Wherefore in a letter to Dionyshis he 
writes (as he himself professeth) enigmatically and 
briefly in the following terms, which he giveth for a 
summary of his notion concerning the supreme Being, 
and which, being capable of divers senses, I leave to be 
deciphered by the learned reader. Ilspl rov irovrw 

j3a<nAia navr tori, /ecu Uiivov IvtKa iravra, /ecu hcuvo acriov 

* Sect. 352. 



siris. 417 

wwavTw T«uv jcoXwv, Stvrcpov SJ ircpc ra Scvrcpci) icat rpcrov 

it^m ra tym-a. Plato enjoins Dionysius over and over, 
with great earnestness, not to suffer what he commu- 
nicates concerning the mysteries of the Divine nature, 
to fell into illiterate orvulgar hands, giving it withal as 
a reason for this caution, that nothing would seem more 
ridiculous or absurd to the common run of mankind. 
He adds, that in regard writings might miscarry, the 
prudent way was to write nothing at all on those mat- 
ters, but to teach and learn them by word of mouth : 
for which reason, saith he, I have never wrote any 
thing thereon ; nor is there, nor shall there ever be, 
any thing of Plato's, extant on that subject. He farther 
adds, as for what hath been now said, it belongs all to 
Socrates. 

366. And, indeed, what this philosopher in his 
Phaedrus speaketh of the supercelestial region, and the 
Divinity resident therein, is of a strain not to be relished 
or comprehended by vulgar minds ; to wit, essence really 
existent, object of intellect alone, without colour, with- 
out figure, without any tangible quality. He might 
very justly conceive that such a description must seem 
ridiculous to sensual men. 

367. As for the perfect intuition of Divine things, 
that he supposeth to be the lot of pure souls, beholding 
by a pure light, initiated, happy, free and unstained 
from those bodies, wherein we are now imprisoned like 
oysters. But in this mortal state, we must be satisfied 
to make the best of those glimpses within our reach.* 
It is Plato's remark, in his Theaetetus, that while we sit 
still we are never the wiser, but going into the river and 
moving up and down, is the way to discover its depths 
and shallows. If we exercise and bestir ourselves, we 
may even here discover something. 

368. The eye by long use comes to see even in the 
darkest cavern : and there is no subject so obscure, but 

• Sect. 335. 337. 



418 siris. 

we may discern some glimpse of truth by long poring 
on it. Truth is the cry of all, but the game of a few. 
Certainly where it is the chief passion, it doth not give 
way to vulgar cares and views ; nqfi is it contented 
with a little ardour in the early time of life ; active, per- 
haps, to pursue, but not so fit to weigh and revise. He 
that would make a real progress in knowledge, must 
dedicate his age as well as youth, the later growth as well 
as first fruits, at the altar of Truth. 

Cujusvis est errare, nullius nisi insipientis in errore pereeverare. 

Cic. 






A 

LETTER TO T P Esq. 

CONTAINING 

SOME FARTHER REMARKS 

ON 

THE VIRTUES OF TAR WATER, 

AND 

THE METHODS FOR PREPARING AND USING IT. 



■J 

!;•■ 



l-i- 



4; 



• * 



LETTER, &c. 



1 « Among the great numbers, who drink tar water in 
Dublin, your letter informs me, there are some that 
make or use it in an undue manner. To obviate those 
inconveniences, and render thi6 water as generally use* 
ful as possible, you desire I would draw up some rules 
and remarks in a small compass, which accordingly I 
here send you. 

2. Pour a gallon of cold water on a quart of liquid 
tar, stir, mix, and work them thoroughly together, with 
a wooden ladle, or flat stick, for the space of five or six 
minutes. Then let the vesssl stand close covered three 
days and nights, that the tar may have full time to sub- 
side. After which, having first carefully skimmed it 
without moving the vessel, pour off the clear water, 
and keep it in bottles, well corked, for use. This me- 
thod will produce a liquor stronger than that first pub- 
lished in Siris, but not offensive, if carefully skimmed. 
It is 4 good general rule, but as stomachs and constitu- 
tions are various, it may admit of some latitude. Less 
water or more stirring makes it stronger, as more water 
or less stirring makes it weaker. It is to be noted, that 
if several gallons are made at once in the same vessel, 
you must add five or six minutes stirring for every gal- 
lon. Thus two gallons of water, and two quarts of tyr 
require ten or twelve minutes stirring. 

3. The same tar will not do so well a second time, 
but. may serve for other common uses : the putting off 
tar that hath been used, for fresh tar, would be a bad 



422 A LETTER, &C. 

fraud. To prevent which it is to be noted, that tar al- 
ready used is of a lighter brown than other tar. The 
only tar that I have used is that from our northern 
colonies in America, and that from Norway ; the latter 
being thinner, mixeth easier with water, and seems to 
have more spirit. If the former be made use of (as I 
have known it with good success), the tar water will re- 
quire longer stirring to make it. 

4. Tar water, when right, is not paler than French 
nor deeper coloured than Spanish white wine, atad full 
as clear ;. if there be not a spirit very sensibly perceived 
in drinking, you may conclude the tar waiter is not good, 
if you would have it good see it made yourself. Those 
Who begin with it, little and weak, may by habit oome 
to drink more and stronger. According to 4he season* 
or the humour of the patient, it may be drank either 
cold or warm; in cholics, I take it to be best warm. 
If it disgusts a patient warm, let him try it cold, and 
vice versa. If at first it create to some squeamish 
persons a little sickness at stomach, or nauseating, it 
may be reduced both in quality and quantity. In gene> 
ral, small inconveniences are either removed, or borne 
with small trouble ; it lays under no restraint as to air, 
exercise, clothes, or diet, and may be taken at all times 
in the year. 

5. As to the quantity in common chronical indispo- 
sitions, one pint of tar water a day may suffice, taken on 
an empty stomach, at two or four times, to wit, night 
and morning, and about two hours after dinner and 
breakfast ; more may be taken by strong stomachs. 
Alteratives in general, taken in small doses, and often, 
mix best with the blood, how oft or how strong each 
stomach can bear, experience will shew. But those who 
labour under great and inveterate maladies, must drink 
a greater quantity, at least one quart every twenty-four 
hours, taken at four, six, or eight glasses, as best suits 
the circumstances and case of the drinker. All of this 



A LETTER, &C. 423 

class must have much patience and perseverance in the 
use of this, as well as of all other medicines, which, if sure 
and safe, must yet, from the nature of things, he slow 
in the cure of inveterate chronical disorders. In acute 
cases, fevers of all kinds, it must he drank in bed, warm, 
and in great quantity, the fever still enabling the patient 
to drink, perhaps a pint every hour, which I have known 
to work surprising cures. But it works so quick, and 
gives such spirits, that the patients often think them- 
selves cured before the fever hath quite left them. Such 
therefore should not be impatient to rise, or apply them- 
selves too soon to business, or their usual diet. 

6. To some, perhaps, it may seem, that a slow 
alterative in chronical cases cannot be depended on in 
fevers and acute distempers, which demand immediate 
relief. But I affirm that this same medicine, which is a 
slow alterative in chronical cases, I have found to be 
also a most immediate remedy, when copiously taken, 
in acute and inflammatory cases. It might indeed be 
thought rash to have tried it in the most threatening 
fevers and pleurisies without bleeding, which in the 
common practice would have been held necessary. But 
for this I can say, (hat I had patients who would not be 
bled, and this obliged me to make trials of tar water 
without bleeding, which trials I never knew unsuccess- 
ful. The 6ame tar water I found a slow alterative, and 
a wdden febrifuge. If the reader is surprised, I own 
myself to be so too. But truth is truth, and from what- 
ever hand it comes should be candidly received. If phy- 
sicians think they have a right to treat of religious mat- 
ters, I think I have an equal right to treat of medicine. 

7. Authority I have no pretence to. But reason is 
the common birthright of all. My reasons I have 
given in Siris. My motives every one will interpret 
from his own breast. But he must own himself a very 
bad man, who in my case (that is, after long experience, 
and under full conviction of the virtues and - innocence 



424 A LETTER, &C« 

of tar water) would not have done as much'. ■ All men 
are, Twill' not say allowed, but, obliged to promote the 
common benefit. And for this end, what I could not 

# 

in conscience conceal, that I do and shall publicly de- 
clare, maugre all the spleen and raillery of a world 
which cannot treat me worse than it hath done my 
betters. 

8. As the morning's draught is most difficult to 
nice stomachs, such may lessen, or even omit it at the 
beginning, or rather postpone it till after breakfast, and 
take a larger dose at night ; the distance from meal- 
time need not be more than one hour, for common 
stomachs, when the liquor' is well clarified and skimmed. 
The oil that floated on the top and was skimmed off, 
should be carefully laid by, and kept for outward sores. 
In the variety of cases and constitutions, it is not amiss 
that there should be different manners of preparing and 
taking tar water. Trial will direct to the best^ whe- 
ther there be any difference between old tar and new 
tar, or which of all the various tars, produced from dif- 
ferent trees, or in different parts of the world, is most 
medicinal, future trials must determine. 

9. I have made a second sort of tat water, to be used 
externally, as a wash or lotion for the itch, scabs, ulcers, 
evil, leprosy, and all such foul cases, which I have tried 
with very good success, and recommend it to the trial 
of others. For inveterate cases of that kind, tar water 
should be drank, a quart every twenty-four hours, at 
four, six, or eight glasses : and after this hath been done 
at least for a fortnight, the lotion is to be applied out- 
wardly, and warm, by bathing, fomenting, and steeping, 
and this several times in the twenty-four hours, to heal 
and dry up the sores, the drinking being still continued. 
This water, for external use, is made in the following 
manner : Pour two quarts of boiling water on a quart of 
tar, stir and work it strongly with a flat stick or ladle, 
a full quarter of an hour ; let it stand six hours, then 



A LETTER, &C. 425 

pour it off, and keep it dose covered for use. It may 
be made weaker or stronger as there is occasion. 

10. From what I have observed of the lotion, I am 
inclined to think, it may be worth while ifc obstinate 
cutaneous ailments, leprosy and weakness of limbs, to 
try a bath of tar water ; allowing a gallon of tar to every 
ten gallons of boiling-hot water ; stirring the ingre- 
dients a full half hour ; suffering the vessel to stand 
eight or ten hours, before the water is poured off; and 
using the bath a little more than milk warm. This ex- 
periment may be made in different proportions of tar 
and water. In Dublin many cases occur for trial, which 
are not to be met with here in the country. 

11. My experiments have been made in various 
cases, and on, many persons; and I make no doubt its 
virtues will soon be more fully discovered, as tar water 
is now growing into general use, though not without 
that opposition which usually attends upon novelty. 
The great objection I find made to this medicine is, 
that it promises too much. What, say the objectors, 
do you pretend to a panacea, a thing strange, chimeri- 
cal, and contrary to the opinion and experience of all 
mankind ? Now to speak out, and give this objection 
or question a plain and direct answer, I freely own that 
I suspect tar water is a panacea. I may be mistaken, 
but it is worth trial : for the chance of so great and 
general benefit, I am willing to stand the ridicule of 
proposing it. And as the old philosopher cried aloud, 
from the house-tops, to his fellow citizens, " Educate 
your children :" so, I confess, if I had a situation high 
enough, and a voice loud enough, I would cry out, to 
all the valetudinarians upon earth, " Drink tar water.* . 

12. Having thus frankly owned the charge, I must 
explain to you, that by a panacea is not meant a medi- 
cine which cures all individuals (this consists not with 
mortality), but a medicine that cures or relieves all the 
different species of distempers. And if God hath given 

VOL. III. 2 P 



426 A LETTER* &C. 

* OS so great a blessing, and made a medicine so cheap 
\*nd plenty as tair, to be withal so universal in its effects, 

to ease the miseries of human life, shall mfen be ridi- 

i culed or bantered out of its use, especially wh6n they 

run no risk in the trial. For lean truly affirm, that 

* I never knew any harm attend it more than sometimes 
a little nausea, which, if the liquor be wdl cleared, 
skimmed, and bottled, need not, I thipk, be appre- 
hended. 

' 13. It must be owned I have not had Opportunities 
of trying it myself in all cases, neither will I undertake 
io demonstrate a priori, that tar water is a panacea. 
But yet methinks I am not quite destitute of probable 
reasons, which, joined' to what facts I have observed, 
induced me to entertain such & suspicion. "■ • 

14. I knew tar was used to preserve cattle from 
contagion; and this may be supposed to have given 
rise to that practice of drinking tar water for a pre- 
servative against the small-pox. But as the tar win- 
ter used for that purpose was made by mixing equal 
quantities of tar and water, it proved a most offensive 
potion : besides, as a fresh glass of water was put in 
for each glass that was taken out, and this for many 
days on the same tar, it follows that the water was not 
equally impregnated with the fine volatile spirit, though 
all alike strongly saturated with gross particles. 

15. Having found this nauseous draught very use- 
ful against the small-pox, to as many as could be pre- 
vailed on to take it ; I began to consider the nature of 
tar. I reflected that tar is a balsam flowing from the 
trunks of aged evergreens ; that it resists putrefaction ; 
that it hath the virtues of turpentine, which in medicine 
are known to be very great and manifold ; but I ob- 
served withal, that turpentines or balsams are very of- 
fensive in the taking : I therefore considered distinctly 
the several constituent parts of balsams ; which were 
those wherein the medicinal virtues resided, and which 



A LETTER, &C. 427 

were to be regarded, rather as a viscous matrix to re- 
ceive, arrest, and retain, the more volatile and active 
particles ; and if these last could be so separated and 
disengaged from the grosser parts, as to impregnate a 
clear and portable liquor, I concluded that such liquor 
must prove a medicine of great force, and general use. 
I considered, that nature was the best chemist and pre- 
parer of medicines, and that the fragrance and flavour 
of tar argued very active qualities and virtues. 

16.I had, of a long time, entertained an opinion, 
agreeable to the sentiments of many ancient philoso- 
phers, " that fire may be regarded as the animal spirit 
of this visible world," And it seemed to me that the 
attracting and secreting of this fire in the various pores> 
tubes, and ducts, of vegetables, did impart their specific 
virtues to each kind ; that this same light, or fire, was 
the immediate instrumental or physical cause of sense 
and motion, and consequently of life and health to ani- 
mals ; that on account of this solar light or fire, Phoe- 
bus was in the ancient mythology reputed the god of 
medicine. Which light as it is leisurely introduced, 
and fixed in the viscid juice of old firs and pines, so the 
setting it free in part, that is, the changing its viscid 
for a volatile vehicle, which may mix with water, and 
convey it throughout the habit copiously and inoffen- 
sively, would be of infinite use in physic, extending to 
all cases whatsoever, inasmuch as all distempers are 
in effect a struggle between the vis vitce and the pecu- 
liar miasma or fomes mofbi ; and nothing strengthens 
nature, or lends such aid and vigour to life, as a cordial 
which doth not heat. 

17* The solar light in great quantity during the 
space of many successive years, being attracted and 
detained in the juice of ancient evergreens, doth form 
and lodge itself in an oil so fine and volatile, as shall 
mix well with water, and lightly pass the 'prima vice> 
and penetrate every part and capillary of the organical 

2 f2 



428 A LETTER, &C. 

system, when once exempt and freed from the grosser 
nauseous resin. It will not, therefore, seem unreason- 
able, to whoever is acquainted with the medicinal vir- 
tues of turpentine in so many different distempers, for 
which it hath been celebrated both by ancient and mo- 
dern physicians, and withal reflects on the nausea or 
clog that prevents their full operation and effect on the 
human body ; it will not, I say, seem unreasonable to 
such a one to suppose, that if this same clog was re- 
moved, numberless cures might be wrought in a great 
variety of cases. 

18. The desideratum was, how to separate the ac- 
tive particles from the heavy viscid substance which 
served to attract and retain them, and so to order mat- 
ters, that the vehicle of the spirit should not on the 
one hand be volatile enough to escape, nor on the 
other, gross enough to offend. For the performing of 
this, I have found a most easy, simple, and effectual 
method, which furnisheth a portable inoffensive liquor, 
clear and fine as the best white wine, cordial and sto- 
machic, to be kept bottled, as being endued with a very 
sensible spirit, though not fermented. 

19. I tried many experiments as to the quantity 
of water, and the time of stirring and standing, in order 
to impregnate and clarify it, and after all, fixed on the 
forementioned receipt, as the most generally useful for 
making this salutiferous liquor well impregnated, and 
not offensive to common stomachs, and even drank with 
pleasure by many : in which the most medicinal and 
active particles, that is, the native salts and volatile oil 
of the balsam, being disentangled and separated from 
its gross oil and viscous resin do, combined together, 
form a fine balsamic, and vegetable soap, which not only 
can pass the stomach and primce vice, but also insinuate 
itself into the minutest capillaries, and freely pervade 
the whole animal system ; and that, in such full propor- 
tion and measure, as suiteth every case and constitution. 



A LETTER SCC. 430 

20. The foregoing general considerations put me 
upon making experiments in many various and un- 
like cases, which otherwise I should never have thought 
of doing, and the success answered my hopes. Philo- 
sophical principles led me to make safe trials, and on 
those trials is founded my opinions of the salutary vir- 
tues of tar watef ; which virtues are recommended 
from, and depend on experiments and matters of fact, 
and neither stand nor fall With any theories or specu- 
lative principles whatever. Howbeit, those theories, 
as I said, enlarged my views of this medicine, led me 
to a greater variety bf trials, and thereby engendered 
and nourished my suspicion, that it is a panacea. I 
have been the more prolix in these particulars, hoping 
that, to as many as shall candidly weigh and consider 
them, the high opinion I conceive of this medicine will 
not seem altogether an effect of vain prepossession or 
blind empiric rashness ; but rather the result of free 
thought and inquiry, and grounded on my best reason, t 
judgment, and experience. Much complaint is indeed 
made of the iniquity of the times : however, it is hoped 
they will not condemn one man's tar water for another's 
pill or drop, any more than they would hang one man 
for another's having stolen a horse. 

21. Those who have only the good of mankind at 
heart, will give this medicine fair play ; if there be any 
who act from other motives, the public will look sharp 
and beware. To do justice to tar water, as weir as to 
thofe Who drink it, regard must be had to the particular 
strength and case of the patients. Grievous or inve- 
terate maladies must hot be treated as common cases. 
I cured a horrible case, a gangrene in the blood, which 
had broke out in several sores, and threatened speedy 
death, by obliging the person to drink nothing but this 
liquor for several weeks, as much and as often as his 
stomach would bear. Common sense will direct a pix>- 



440 . A LETTER, &C. 

portionable conduct in other cases. But this must be 
left to the conscience and discretion of the givers and 
takers. 

22. After all that can be said, it is most certain, 
that a panacea sounds odd, and conveys somewhat 
shocking to the ear and sense of most men, who are 
wont to rank the universal medicine with the philoso- 
pher's stone, and the squaring of the circle ; whereof 
the chief, if not sole reason, I take to be, that it is 
thought to be incredible the same things should pro- 
duce contrary effects, as it must do if it cures oppo- 
site distempers. And yet this is no more than every 
day's experience verifies. Milk, for instance, makes 
some costive and others laxative : this regards the pos- 
sibility of a panacea in general ; as for tar water in par- 
ticular, I dp not say it is a panacea, I only suspect it to 
be so ; time and trial will shew. 

2,3. But I am most sincerely persuaded, from what 
I liave already seen and tried, that tar water may be 
drank with great safety and success, for the cure or re- 
lief of most, if not all diseases ; of ulcers, itch, scald- 
heads, leprosy, the foul disease, and all foul cases, 
scurvies of all kinds, disorders of the lungs, stomach, 
and bowels, in rheumatic, gouty, and nephritic ailments, 
megrims, inveterate head-aches, pleurisies, peripneumo 
nies, erysipelas, small-pox, and all kinds of fevers, cholics, 
hysteric . and all nervous cases, dropsies, decays, and 
other maladies. Note, that for agues it should be drank 
warm and often, in small glasses, both in and out of the 
fit, and continued for several days to prevent a relapse. 
Nor is it of use only in the cure of sickness, it is also 
useful to preserve health, and guard against infection, 
and in some measure even against old age, as it gives 
lasting spirits, and invigorates the blood. I am even 
induced, by the nature and analogy of things, and its 
wonderful success in fevers of all kinds, to think that 



A LETTER, &C. 431 

tar water may be very useful against the plague, both 
as a preservative and a cure* 

24. But I doubt no medicine can withstand that 
execrable plague of distilled spirits, which do all, with- 
out exception (the fire of the hot still imparting a caustic 
and coagulating quality to all distilled spirits, whatever 
the subject or ingredients may be), operate as a slow 
poison, preying on the vitals, and wasting the health 
and strength of body and soul : which pest of human 
kind, is I am told, gaining ground in this country, al- 
ready too thin of inhabitants. * 

I am, &c. 



FARTHER THOUGHTS 



ON 



TAR WATER. 



SECOND LETTER 



TO 



■, Esq. 



1. Your attention to whatever promotes the public 
good of your country, or the common benefit of man- 
kind, having engaged you in a particular inquiry con- 
cerning the virtues and effects of tar water, you are enti- 
tled to know, what farther discoveries, observations, and 
reflections, I have made on the subject. 

2. Tar water, in the several editions of Siris, hath 
been directed to be made by stirring three, four, five, 
or six minutes, a gallon of water and a quart of tar. 
But although it seem best made, for general use, within 
those limits, yet the stomach of the patient is the best 
rule, whereby to direct the strength of the water ; with 
a little more stirring, six quarts of good tar water may 
be made from one of tar ; and with eight minutes stir- 
ring, I have known a gallon of tar water produced from 
second-hand tar, which proved a good remedy in a very 
bad fever, when better tar could not be had. For the 
use of travellers, a tar water may be made very strong, 
for instance, with one quart of water, and a quart of 
tar, stirred together for the space of five minutes. A 
bottle of this may serve long on a road, a little being 
put to each glass of common water, more or less, as you 
would have it stronger or weaker. Near two years ago, 
a quart of about this strength was given to an old woman, 
to be taken at one draught by direction of a young lady, • 
who had consulted one in my family, about the method 
of preparing and giving tar water, which yet she hapr 
pened to mistake. But even thus, it did service in the 



436 A SECOND LETTER, &C. 

main, though it wrought the patient violently all man- 
ner of ways : which shews, that errors and excesses in 
tar water, are not so dangerous, as in other medicines. 

3. The best tar I take to be that which is most 
liquid, or first running from the billets of fir or pine, 
which grew on the mountains : it hath a greater share 
of the antiscorbutic vegetable juices, which are con- 
tained not only in the leaves and tender tops, but in all 
parts of the wood ; and these, together with the salts of 
woodsoap, being in the composition of tar superadded 
to turpentine, render tar water a medicine, if I am not 
mistaken, much more extensive and efficacious, than 
any that can be obtained from turpentine alone. 

4. The virtues of the wood juices shew themselves 
in spruce-beer, made of molasses, and the black spruce- 
fir in the northern parts of America ; and the young 
shoots of our common spruce-fir have been put to malt 
liquor in my own family, and make a very wholesome 
drink. 

5. Tar water seldom fails to cure, or relieve, when 
rightly made of good tar, and duly taken. I say, of 
good tar, because the vile practice of adulterating tar, 
and of selling the dregs of tar, or used tar for fresh, is 
grown frequent, to the great wrong of those who take 
it Whoever hath been used to good tar water, can 
readily discern the bad by its flat taste, void of that warm 
cordial quality found in the former ; it may also be ex- 
pedient for knowing fresh tar, to observe, whether a fat 
oily scum floats on the top of the water, which is found 
to be much less, if any at all, on the second making of 
tar water. This scum was directed to be taken out, not 
from its being apt to do harm when drank, but to render 
the tar water more palatable to nice stomachs. Great 
quantities of tar are produced in Germany, Italy, and 
other parts of the world. The different qualities or 
virtues of these, it may be worth while to try, and I 
wish the taal were made principally by observing, which 



A SECOND LETTER, &C. 437 

giveth most sense of a lively cordial spirit upon drinking 
the water. 

6. This medicine of tar water worketh various ways, 
by urine, by perspiration, as a sudorific, carminative, 
cardiac, astringent, detergent, restorative, alterative, 
and sometimes as a gentle purgative or emetic, accord- 
ing to the case or constitution of the patient, or to the 
quantity that is taken ; and its operation should not be 
disturbed. I knew two brothers ill of a fever about the 
same time ; it wrought on the one by copious sweating, 
on the other altogether by urine ; and I have known it 
to act at different times differently, even on the same 
person, and in the same disorder ; one while as a dia- 
phoretic, or sudorific, another as a diuretic. Its general 
character is diuretic, which shews, that it clean seth the 
urinary passages, preventing thereby both stone and 
gravel, against which it hath been found very useful, and 
much safer than mineral waters, by reason of its bal- 
samic healing quality. 

7. Tar water doth recover and impart vital heat, 
but imparts no inflaming heat I have seen a wonder- 
ful cure wrought on a child about eight years old, and 
past all hopes, by pouring several spoonfuls of tar water 
down his throat, as he lay quite subdued by a most vio- 
lent fever, without any appearance of sense or motion, 
the nostrils drawn back, the eyes fixed, the complexion 
deadly Wan. And yet tar water, forced down by spoon- 
fuls, seemed to kindle up life a-new; and this after 
sage-tea, saffron, milk-water, Venice treacle, &c. had 
been used without any success. 

8. This is of itself a sufficient cordial, friendly and 
congenial to the vital heat and spirits of a man. If 
therefore strong liquors are in the accustomed quantity 
superadded, the blood being already, by tar water, suffi- 
ciently warmed for vital heat, the strong liquors super- 
added will be apt to overheat it, which overheating 
is not to be imputed to the tar water, since, taken 



438 A SECOND LBTTBB, &C. ' 

alone^ I could never observe it ' attended with that 
symptom. 

9. And though it may be no easy matter to per- 
suade such as have long indulged themselves in the free 
use of strong fermented liquors and distilled spirits, to 
forsake their pernicious habits, yet I am myself tho- 
roughly persuaded, that in the weakness or fatigue of 
body, or in low spirits, tar water alone doth far surpass 
all those vulgarly-esteemed cordials, which heat and 
intoxicate, and which coagulate the fluids, and, by 
their caustic, force, dry up, stiffen, and destroy, the fine 
vessels and fibres of the unhappy drinkers, obstruct- 
ing the secretions, impairing the animal functions, pro- 
ducing various disorders, and bringing on the untimely 
symptoms of old age. Nothing doth so much obstruct 
the goQd effects of tar water, as the abuse of strong 
liquors. Where this is avoided, it seems no chronical 
malady can keep its ground, or stand before tar water 
constantly and regularly taken, not even hereditary 
distempers, as the most inveterate king's evil, nor even 
the most confirmed gout ; provided it be drank a quart 
a day, at six or eight glasses, and at all seasons, both in 
and out of the fit, and that for a great length of time, 
the longer the better. It is to be noted, that in fits of 
the gout, cholic, or fever, it should be always drank 
warm. On other occasions, warm or cold, as the pa- 
tient likes. 

10. The inference I make is, that those who' expect 
health from tar water, have less need of any other cor- 
dial, and would do well to sacrifice some part of their 
pleasure to their health. At the same time I will ven- 

' ture to affirm, that a fever produced either from hard 
drinking, or any other cause, is most effectually and 
speedily subdued, by abstaining from all other cordials, 
and plentifully drinking of tar water ; for it warms the 
cold, and cools the hot ; simple water may cool, but 
this, at the same time that it cools, gives life and spirit. 



X SECOND LETTER, &C. 439 

9 

It is, in truth, a specific for all kinds of fevers ; the same 
medicine, which is a. leisurely alterative in chronical dis- 
orders, being taken in larger quantities, is a speedy cure 
in acute ones. 

11. Those who, without knowledge or experience 
of tar water, have been so active and earnest to discre- 
dit its virtues, have much to answer for, especially with 
regard to acute inflammatory distempers, in which it 
doth wonders. It is in those disorders, 50 fatal arid fre- 
quent, that I have had most opportunities of observing 
its virtues, nor can the world ever know the just value 
of this medicine, but by trying it in the like cases. 

12. When patients are given over, and ail known 
methods fail, it is allowed to try new remedies. If tar 
water was tried in such cases, I do verily believe, that 
many patients might thereby be rescued from the jaws of 
death : particularly, I would recommend the trial of it, 
in the most malignant and desperate fevers or small-pox, 
attended with purple, livid, or black spots. It is my 
sincere opinion, that warm tar water, drank copiously, 
may often prove salutary, even in those deplorable cases. 

13. My opinion is grounded on its singular virtues 
in correcting, sweetening, and invigorating, the blood, 
and in curing cancers and gangrenes, or beginning mor- 
tifications, such as those spots do indicate. I have late- 
ly known it drunk with good success in a very painful 
and unpromising wound ; and am persuaded, that if it 
were drank plentifully, during the dressing of all sorts 
of dangerous wounds, it might assuage the anguish, and 
forward the cure ; as it abates feverish symptoms, and 
by rendering the blood balsamic, and disposing the parts 
to heal, prevents a gangrene. 

14. Tar itself is an excellent medicine, being spread 
on a cloth, and applied warm to an ulcer or wound. I 
have known the same applied to a very large and painful 
tumour, caused by a sprain or bruise, speedily assuage 
the pain, and reduce the swelling. I may add, that tar 



440 A SECOND LETTER, &C. 

(mixed with honey to make it less offensive, and) taken 
inwardly, is an admirable balsam for the lungs ; and a 
little of this, taken together with tar water, hastens its 
effect in curing the most obstinate and wasting coughs ; 
and an egg-shell full of tar, swallowed and washed down 
with a quart of tar water, night and morning, hath been 
found very useful for the same disorder in horses. 

1 5 • Sitting over the vapour of the heated lotion, de- 
scribed in my former letter, is excellent in the case of 
piles or fistula ; especially if fomenting with the same 
lotion be added, as also anointing with the oil scummed 
from the top of tar water. Tar water hath been snuff- 
ed up the nostrils, with good success, for a great heavi- 
ness of the head and drowsiness. It is a very useful wash 
for weak, dry, or itching eyes : an excellent preserva- 
tive for the teeth and gums ; also a good drink and 
gargle for a throat : I may add, that I have known it 
succeed in cases where it has been tried without hopes 
of success, particularly in deafness. I have known life 
sustained many days together, only by drinking of tar 
water, without any other nourishment, and without any 
remarkable diminution of strength and spirit ; it may 
therefore be of singular use, and save many lives in the 
distress of famine at sea, or in sieges, and in seasons of 
great scarcity. The virtue of tar water, flowing like the 
Nile,* from a secret and occult cause, brancheth into 
innumerable channels, conveying health and relief, 
wherever it is applied ; nor is it more easy and various 
in its use, than copious in quantity. How great havoc, 
nevertheless, is made by the small-pox, raging like a 
plague, in New England, and other parts of America, 
which yet abound with tar ! And how many thousand 
sailors, in all parts of the world, are rotting by the scurvy 
with their remedy at hand ! 

* The Nile was by the ancient Egyptians called Siris, which 
word also signifies, in Greek, a chain, though not so commonly used 
as Sira. 



A SECOND LETTER, &C. 441 

16. Many in this town of Goyne have, by the copi- 
ous drinking of tar water alone, been recovered of the 
most violent fevers, attended with the most threatening 
symptoms, and much heightened by relapses from mis- 
management. It would be tedious to enumerate all 
the cases of this kind, which have happened at Cloyne, 
and in my own family ; where many fevers, pleuritic as 
well as others, attended with violent stitches, difficulty 
of breathing, and spitting of blood; have been cured by 
tar water : and this I can with truth affirm, that I never 
knew it regularly tried, in any inflammatory case, with- 
out success : but then it must be given in bed warm, 
and very copiously, with all due caution against cold, 
noise, and improper diet. 

17. I have often observed, when a patient, oh the 
first attack of a fever, hath betaken himself to his bed, 
and drank tar water regularly and constantly, that he 
hath had such favourable symptoms, so good appetite, 
and so sound sleep, that the fever passed almost as no- 
thing ; nor was to be distinguished otherwise than by a 
quickness of pulse, a little feverish heat, and thirst. The 
more that patients in a fever drink, the better they find 
themselves ; and their liking to tar water grows with 
their want of it, by a certain instinct or dictate of na- 
ture ; insomuch that I have known children in very 
high fevers, who, at other times, could hardly be pre- 
vailed on to drink a single glass, drink six or eight in an 
hour. ' 

: IS. I can truly affirm that for the cases within my 
own observation, inflammatory acute distempers cured 
by tar water, have been, at least, ten times the number 
of any other. These indeed oftenest occur, as causing 
the chief 'destruction and general ravage of mankind : 
who are consequently debarred from the principal use 
and benefit of this medicine so long as they give ear to 
the suggestions of those, who, without any experience 
thereof, would persuade them, it is of a heating or 

vol. m. 2g 



£42 A SBCOOT LETTS*, &C. 

indaotiftg nature ; which suggestion, as I am convinced 
myself, by long and manifold experience, that it is abso- 
lutely false, so may all others also be sufficiently con- 
vinced of its falsehood, by the wonderful fact attested by 
a . sptetoa affidavit of Captain Drape, at Liverpool ; 
whereby k appears, that of 170 negroes seized at once by 
tbe small-pox on the coast of Guinea, one only died, 
who refused to drink tar water ; and the remaining 169, 
all recovered by drinking it, without any other medi- 
cine,, notwithstanding the heat of the climate, and the 
incommodities of the vessel. A fact so well vouched 
must, with all unbiassed men, outweigh the positive as- 
sertions of those, who have declared themselves adversa- 
ries of tar water, on the score of its pretended heating 
or inflaming quality. 

1Q. The skill and learning of those gentlemen, in 
their profession, I shall not dispute ; but yet it seems 
strange, that they phould without experience pronounce 
at once concerning the virtues of tar water, and ascribe 
to it pernicious qualities, which I, who have watched its 
workings and effects for years together, could never dis- 
cover. These three last years I have taken it myself 
without one day's intermission ; others in my family 
have taken it near the same time, and those of different 
ages and sexes ; several in the neighbourhood have done 
as much, all without any injury, and much benefit. 

20. It is to be noted, the skin and the belly are an- 
tagonists ; that is, the more passeth by perspiration, the 
less will pass another way. Medicines therefore,, which 
cause the patient to perspire, will be apt to make him 
costive. Therefore, when tar water worketh much by 
perspiration, the body may chance to be bound. But 
such symptom, though it should be attended with a lit- 
tle more than ordinary warmth, need not be dreaded by 
the patient ; it being only a sign, that his cure is carried 
on by driving the peccant matter through the skin ; 
which is one of the ways whereby tar water worketh 



A SECOND &BTTBR, &C. 448 

its effect. And when this effect ot cure is wrought, the 
body of itself returneth to its former natural state ; and 
if some have been bound in their bodies, I Have known 
others affected in a contrary manner, upoft drinking tar 
water, as it hath happened to operate either in the shape 
of a diaphoretic, or of a gentle opening medicine. I 
have even known a costive habit more than once re- 
moved by it, and that when the case was inveterate, and 
other methods had failed. 

21. I mentioned the foregoing article* upon calling 
to mind, that two or three patients had, for a time, com- 
plained of a binding quality in tar Water. I likewise re- 
member, that one in a high degree of the scurvy was dis- 
couraged from the use of tar water, by its having caused 
an uneasy itching all over his body. But this was a good 
symptom, which shewed the peccant humours to be pftt 
in motion, and in & fair way of being discharged through 
the skin. 

22. A humour or flatus put in motion, and dis- 
lodged from one part, often produceth new pains in some 
other part ; and an efficacious medicine, as it produceth 
a change in the economy, may be attended with some 
uneasiness, which yet is not to be accounted a distemper, 
but only an effect or symptom of the cure. 

23. The salts of tar water have nothing of the fiery 
and corrosive nature of lixivial salts produced by the in- 
cineration of the subject; they not being fixed salts, 
made by the extreme force of fire, but volatile salts, 
such as pre-existed in the vegetable, and would have as- 
cended -in smoke, if not prevented by the sods or cover- 
ing of the billet piles. This, though already hinted in 
Sins, and plain from the manner of making tar, I have 
thought fit to repeat and inculcate, because, if duly at- 
tended to, it may obviate suspicions about tar water, pro- 
ceeding only from an ignorance of its nature. 

24. Every step that I advanced in discovering the 
virtues of tar water, my own wonder and surprise in- 

2 g 2 



444 A SECOND I.RTTBB, &C. 

creased, as much as theirs to whom I mentioned them : 
nor could 1, without great variety and evidence of facts, 
ever have been induced to suspect, that, in all sorts of 
ailments whatsoever, it might relieve or cure, which at 
first sight may seem incredible and unaccountable ; but on 
maturer thought will perhaps appear to agree with, and 
follow from, the nature of things. For it is to be noted, 
that the general notion of a disease seemeth to consist 
in this, that what is taken in, is not duly assimilated by 
the force of the animal economy ; therefore it should 
seem whatever assists the vis viue may be of general use 
in all diseases, enabling nature either to assimilate or 
discharge all unsubdued humours and particles whatso- 
ever. But the light or ether detained on the volatile 
oil, which impregnates tar water, being of the same na- 
ture with the animal spirit, is an accession of so much 
strength to the constitution, which it assists to assimi- 
late or expel whatever is alien or noxious. 



A LETTER 



TO 



, Esq, 



COKCIUKINO THE 

USEFULNESS OF TAR WATER IN THE PLAGOE. 

WHEREIN ALSO IT IS COH9IDBBED, 

WHETHER TAR WATER PREPARED WITH THE DISTILLED ACID OF TAR, 
SHOULD BE PREFERRED TO THAT MADE IN THE COMMON WAT, BT 
MIXING TAR WITH WATER, AND STIRRING THEM TOGETHER. 



i 

I 

k 

i 7 



i 



LETTER TO T P , Esq. 

&c. 



You observe in a late letter of yours, that I had form- 
erly hinted, tar water might be useful in the plague, and 
desire to know the reasons whereon my opinion was 
grounded, and that I would communicate my thoughts 
at large on the subject ; I am the more Mailing to satisfy 
you in this particular, as the plague now raging in Bar- 
bary hath in some measure alarmed the public, and I 
think it may not be amiss to contribute my mite of 
advice towards averting or lessening the present danger; 
and, as fear begets caution, to possess my countrymen 
with an apprehension of this the greatest of all temporal 
calamities, sufficient to put them on their guard, and 
prepare them against the worst that can happen. 

A learned physician of our own observes, that the 
plague does not visit these Britannic islands oftenef 
than once in thirty or forty years, and it is now above 
twice that time since we felt the hand of the destroy- 
ing angel. 

It is also the opinion of physicians, that the infec- 
tion cannot spread, except there is a suitable disposition 
in the air to receive it ; the signs of which are wet sum- 
mers, leaves and fruits blasted, an unusual quantity of 
insects, epidemical distempers among the cattle, to 
which I presume may be added long easterly winds, all 
which signs seem to have discovered themselves prtetty 
plainly in the course of this present year. 

Beside these natural forerunners of a plague or pes- 
tilence in the- air, it is worth observing^ that a prognos- 



448 A LBTTBB, &C. 

tic may be also made from the moral and religious dis- 
position of the inhabitants. Certainly that the digitus 
dei (the rl Ouov of Hippocrates) doth manifest itself in 
the plague, was not only the opinion of mankind in 
general, but also in particular of the most eminent phy- 
sicians throughout all ages down to obr own. How far 
we of these islands have reason to expect this messenger 
of Divine vengeance, will best appear if we take a view 
of the prevailing principles and practices of our times, 
which many think have long called aloud for punish- 
ment or amendment. 

Analogy and probability prevail in medicine : these 
are the proper guides where experience hath not gone 
before. I knew that tar water was useful to prevent 
catching the small-pox, and consequently that its nature 
was contrary to the taint or venom producing that dis- 
temper, and therefore I concluded, that it might be 
usefully applied to qure the same, though I never heard 
jior knew that it had been applied to that purpose, and 
the success answered my hopes. 

In like manner, having known the virtue of tar 
water in preserving from epidemical infection, I conceive 
in general it may be useful for the cure of distempers 
caused by such infection. Besides, being very well 
assured that tar water was sovereign in the cure of all 
sorts of fevers, I think it not unreasonable to infer, 
that it may prove a successful medicine for the plague, 
although I have never known it used in that distemper, 
forasmuch as the plague with all its symptoms may be 
considered as a species of fever, and hath been actually 
considered as such both by Hippocrates and Sydenham, 
not to mention others. 

Having observed surprising effects of tar water in 
the most deplorable cases, for instance, pleurisies, small- 
pox, spotted and erysipelatous fevers, I am induced to 
entertain great hopes of its success in pestilential fevers 
or plagues ; which are also confirmed, by its operating 



A LETTEB, &C. 449 

as a powerful diaphoretic and sudorific, when given 
warm and in great quantities. Add to this, that it fre- 
quently throws out postules and ulcers, and is apt to ' 
terminate the worst of fevers by an irruption of boils in 
various parts of the body ; that it raises the spirits, is a 
great alexipharmacum and cordial, and must therefore 
be of the greatest use in malignant cases. 

In cachexy, scurvy, gout, as well as in the close of 
fevers, I have often known tar water cause troublesome 
eruptions or boils (the very method taken by nature in 
casting forth the venom of the plague) to break out 
in the surface of the body, expelling the morbific hu- 
mours, the cause and relics of the disease, to the sig- 
nal benefit of the patients; except such who, being 
frightened at the symptoms, have supposed the tar 
water to produce those humours which it only drives 
out, and in consequence of such their groundless suspi- 
cion, laid it aside, or perhaps took other medicines to 
hinder its effect, and thereby deprived themselves of the ' 
benefit they might otherwise have received. 

In the plague are observed head-ache, drowsiness, 
anxiety, vigils, sinking of spirits, and weakness, for all 
which tar water hath been found an effectual remedy. 
Bloody urine and spitting blood, which are also danger- 
ous symptoms observed in the plague, have been often 
removed by the same medicine, which from numberless 
experiments I have found to be peculiarly fitted for puri- 
fying and . strengthening the blood, and for giving it a • 
due consistence, as well as a proper motion. 

In the plague, pleurisies are esteemed mortal symp- 
toms, and in the cure of these I never knew tar water 
fail, if given warm in bed, a pint or more an hour, 
though the patient was neither bled nor blistered. The 
carbuncles and spots which shew themselves in the 
plague are of a gangrenous nature, tending to mortifi- 
cation. And gangrenes I have known effectually cured 
by copious drinking of tar water. 



450 A LETTER, &C. 

An erysipelas, which sheweth a degree of malignity 
nearest to the plague, is easily cured by plentiful drink- 
ing of tar water* I knew a person, who had been six 
weeks ill of an erysipelas under the care of a celebrated 
physician, duritig which time she struggled with many 
dangerous symptoms, and hardly escaped with life. This 
person was a year after seized again in the same manner, 
and recovered in a week, by the sole use of tar water. 
Costiveness is reckoned a very hopeful prognostic in the 
plague ; and it is also a symptom which often attends 
the drinking of tar water, when it throws out the venom 
of a distemper through the skin. 

Diseases of the same season generally bear some 
affinity to each other in their nature and their cure ; 
and it may not be improper on this occasion to observe, 
that the reigning distemper of the black cattle hath been 
often cured by tar water, and would (I am persuaded) 
have done much less mischief, if the practice had been 
general, to have given each distempered beast three 
gallons the first, two the second, and one the third day, 
in warm doses (from a pint to a quart), and at equal 
intervals. 

Diemerbroeck recommends in the first appearance 
of a plague the use of sudorifics, putting the patient to 
bed, and covering him warm, till a copious sweat be 
raised, the very method I constantly follow in the be- 
ginning of fevers, using no other medicine than tar 
water, which, after numberless experiments, I take to be 
the best sudorific that is known, inasmuch as it throws 
out the morbific miasma, without either heating the 
patient or weakening him, the common effects of other 
sudorifics, whereas this, at the same time that it allays 
the feverish heat, proves a most salutary cordial, giving 
great and lasting spirits. 

Upon the whole, I am sincerely persuaded, that for 
cure of the plague there cannot be a better method fol- 
lowed, more general for use, more easy in practice, and 



A MTTBH, &C. 451 

more sure in effect, than to cover the patient warm in 
bed, and. to make him drink every hour one quart of 
warm tar water, of such strength as his stomach is able 
to bear ; a thing not so impracticable as it may seem fit 
first sight, since I have known much more drank in 
fevers, even by children, and that eagerly and by choice, 
the distemper calling for drink, and the ease it gave 
encouraging to go on. This for the cure ; but I con- 
ceive that one quart per diem may suffice for preven- 
tion ; especially if there be added an even temper of 
mind, and an exact regimen, which are both highly 
useful against the plague* For carbuncles and buboes 
I would recommend a liniment of the oil of tar, or a 
plaster of pitch mixed with tar, which last was used 
by the vulgar m the Dutch plague described by Die- 
merbroeck. 

It has pleased Divine Providence to visit us not long 
since, first with famine, then with the sword ; and if 
it shall please the same good Providence yet farther to 
visit us for our sins, with the third and greatest of 
human woes, this, by God's blessing, is the course I 
mean to take for myself and family ; and if generally 
practised, it would, I doubt not (under God), save the 
lives of many thousands ; whereof being persuaded in 
my own mind, both from the many trials I have made 
of tar water, and the best judgment and reasonings I 
could form thereupon, I think myself obliged to declare 
to the world what I am convinced of myself. 

And I am the rather moved to this by the great un- 
certainty and disagreement among physicians, in their 
methods of treating the plague. Diemerbroeck, for 
instance, a physician of great experience in the Dutch 
plague that raged about eighty years ago, dissuades by 
all means from bleeding in that distemper. On the 
other hand, Sydenham recommends what the other dis- 
approves. ' If we believe Dr. Sydenham, the free use of 
wine, as a preservative, hath thrown many into the 



.1 



452 A LETTER, &C 

plague, who otherwise might have escaped. Dr. Willis 
on the contrary avers, that he knew many, who bang 
well fortified by wine, freely entered amongst the in- 
fected, without catching the infection. - 

Bleeding cools, but at the same time weakens nature. 
Wine gives spirits, but heats withal. Thqy are both 
therefore to be suspected, whereas tar water cools 
without weakening, and gives spirits without heating, a 
sure indication of its sovereign virtue in all inflam- 
matory and malignant cases, which is confirmed by such 
numbers of instances, that matter of fact keeps pace (at 
least) with reason and argument in recommending this 
medicine. 

Plagues as well as fevers are observed to be of dif- 
ferent kinds ; and it is observed of fevers, that, as they 
change their genius in different seasons, so they must 
be treated differently, that very method that succeeded 
in one season often proving hurtful in another. Now 
it is very remarkable, that tar water has been known to 
vary its working, and wonderfully adapt itself to the 
particular case of the patient, a thing I frequently have 
experienced. 

Last spring two children, a boy and a girl, the former 
ten years old, the latter eight years old, were seized 
with fevers ; the boy had an inflammation in his breast. 
In less than two hours they drank each about five quarts 
of warm tar water, which wrought them very differ- 
ently, the girl as an emetic, the boy as a gentle purge, 
but both alike immediately recovered, without the use 
of any other medicine : of this I was an eye-witness, 
and I have found by frequent experience, that the best 
way is, to let this medicine take its own course, not hin- 
dered nor interrupted by any other medicines ; and this 
being observed, I never knew it to fail so much as once, 
in above a hundred trials in all sorts of fevers. 

Nevertheless there are not wanting those who would 
insinuate, that tar water made in the common way con- 



A LETTER, &C. 453 

tains noxious oils or particles of tar, which render -it 
dangerous to those who drink it, a thing contrary to all 
my experience. This was the old objection made by 
those who. opposed it from the beginning. But I am 
convinced by innumerable trials, that tar water is so far 
from doing hurt by any caustic or fiery quality, that it is 
on the contrary a most potent medicine for the allaying 
of heat, and curing of all inflammatory distempers. The 
perpetual returning to the same objection makes it ne- 
cessary to repeat the same answer. 

And yet, some who are not afraid to argue against 
experience, would still persuade us that the common tar 
water is a dangerous medicine, and that the acid freed 
from the volatile oil is much more safe and efficacious : 
but I am of opinion, that being robbed of its fine vola- 
tile oil (which neither sinks to the bottom nor floats at 
the top, but is throughout and intimately united with it, 
and appears to the eye only in the colour of tar water) ; 
being robbed, I say, of this oil, it is my opinion it can 
be no cordial, which opinion (not to mention the reason 
df the thing) I ground on my own experience, having 
observed that the most acid water is the least cordial, so 
far am I from imputing the whole virtue to the acid, as 
some : seem to think. 

It seems not very reasonable to suppose, that the 
caustic quality of tar warer (if such there was) should be 
renioved or lessened by distillation, or that a still should 
furnish a cooler and better medicine than that which is 
commpuly prepared by the simple affusion and stirring' 
of cold water. However the ends of chemists or dis- 
tillers may be served thereby, yet it by no means seem- 
eth calculated for the benefit of mankind in general, to 
attempt to make people suspect, and frighten them from 
the use of a medicine, so easily and so readily made, and 
every where at hand, of such approved and known safety, 
and at the same time recommended by cures the most 
extraordinary, on persons of all sexes and ages, in such 



434 A tETTBB, &C. 

variety of distempers, and in so many (distant parts of 
Christendom. 

By most men, I believe, it will be judged, at best, a 
needless undertaking, instead of an easy tried medicine 
to introduce one more operose and expensive, unsup- 
ported by experiments, and recommended by wrong 
suppositions, that all the virtue is in the acid, and that 
the tar water being impregnated with volatile oil is 
caustic, which are both notorious mistakes. 

Though it be the character of resin not to dissolve 
and mix with water as salts do, yet it attracts some 
fine particles of essential oil, which serves as a vehicle 
for such acid salts ; and the colour of the tar water 
sheweth the fine oil, in which the vegetable salts are 
lodged, to be dissolved and mixed therein. The com- 
bination of two such different substances as oil and salt, 
constitutes a very subtile and active medicine, fitted to 
mix with all humours, and resolve all obstructions, and 
which may properly be called an acid soap. 

Tar water operates more gently and safely, as the 
acid salts are sheathed in oil, and thereby losing their 
acrimony, approach the nature of neutral 'sal ts, and so 
become more friendly to the animal system. By the 
help of a smooth insinuating oil, these acid salts are more 
easily and safely introduced into the fine capillaries. I 
may add, that the crasis of the blood is perfected by tar 
water, being good against too great a solution and 
fluidity as a balsam, and against viscidity as a soap, all 
which entirely depends upon the mixture of oil with the 
acid, without which it could heither operate as a balsam 
nor a soap ; briefly, it was not mere acid or distilled 
water, or tincture of tar, but tar water, as commonly 
made, by affusion and stirring of cold water upon tar, 
which hath wrought all those great cures and salutary 
effects, which have recommended it as a medicine, to 
the general esteem of the world. 

The mixture of volatile oil, which is or contains tfie 



A LBTTBB, &C. 455 

spirit, is to far (torn noxious, that it is the very thing 
that makes tar water a cordial ; this gives it a grateful 
warmth^ and raiseth the spirits of the hysteric and hypo- 
chondriacal ; this also, rendering the blood balsamic, 
disposeth wounds of all sorts to an easy cure ; this also 
it is that fortifies the vitals, and invigorates nature, driv- 
ing the gout to the extremities, and shortening the fits* 
till it entirely subdues that obstinate and cruel enemy, as 
it hath been often known to do ; but acid alone is so far 
from being able to do this, that on the contrary the free 
use of acids is reckoned amongst the causes of the gout. 

I never could find that the volatile oil drawn from 
tar by the affusion of cold water produced any inflam- 
mation, or was otherwise hurtfal, not even though the 
water by longer stirring had imbibed far more of the oil 
than in the common manner, having been assured, that 
some of strong stomachs have drank it after twenty 
minutes stirring, without any the least harm, and with 
very great benefit. 

It hath been indeed insinuated, that the oil was 
ordered to be skimmed off, because it is caustic and 
dangerous; but this is a mistake. I myself, among 
many others, drank the tar water for two years together, 
with its oil upon it, which never proved hurtful, other- 
wise than as being somewhat gross, and floating on the 
top, it rendered the water less palatable, for which rea- 
son alone it was ordered to be skimmed. 

It hath also been hinted, that making tar water the 
second time of the same tar was cautioned against, for 
that it was apprehended such water would prove too 
heating ; which is so far from being true, that when I 
could not get fresh tar, I used the second water without 
difficulty, by means whereof it pleased God to recover 
from the small-pox two children in my own family, 
who drank it very copiously, a sufficient proof that it is 
not of that fiery caustic nature which some would per- 
suade us. 



456 A LETTER, &C. 

The truth is, my sole reason for advising the tar not 
to be used a second time, was because I did not think 
it would sufficiently impregnate the water, or render it 
strong enough after so much of the fine volatile parts 
had been carried off by the former infusion. Truth 
obligeth me to affirm, that there is no danger (foras- 
much as I could ever observe) to be apprehended from 
tar water, as commonly made ; the fine volatile oil, on 
which I take its cordial quality to depend, is, in its own 
nature, so soft and gentle, and so tempered by the acid, 
and both so blended and diluted with so great a quantity 
of water, as to make a compound, cherishing and cor- 
dial, producing a genial kindly warmth without any in- 
flaming heat, a thing I have often said, and still find it 
necessary to inculcate. 

Some medicines indeed are so violent, that the least 
excess is dangerous ; these require an exactness in the 
dose, where a small error may produce a great mischief. 
But tar is, in truth, no such dangerous medicine, not 
even in substance, as I have more than once known it 
taken innocently, mixed with honey, for a speedy cure 
of a cold. 

But notwithstanding all that hath been said on that 
subject, it is still sometimes asked what precise quantity 
or degree of strength is required ? to which I answer 
(agreeably to what hath been formerly and frequently 
observed), the palate, the stomach, the particular case 
and constitution of the patient, the very climate or sea- 
son of the year, will dispose and require him to drink 
more or less in quantity, stronger or weaker in degree ; 
precisely to measure its strength, by a scrupulous exact- 
ness, is by no means necessary. Every one may settle 
that matter for himself, with the same safety that malt 
is proportioned to water in making beer, and by the 
same rule, to wit, the palate. . 

Only in general thus much may be said, that the 
proportions I formerly recommended will be found agree- 



A LETTER, &C. 457 

able to most stomachs, and withal of sufficient strength, 
as many thousands have found, and daily find, by expe- 
rience. I take this Opportunity to observe, that I use 
tar water made in stone- ware or earthen very well glazed, 
earthen vessels unglazed being apt to communicate a 
nauseous sweetness to the water. 

Tar water is a diet-drink, in the making whereof 
there is great latitude, its perfection not consisting in a 
point, but varying with the constitution and palate of 
the patient, being nevertheless, at times, taken by the 
same person, weaker or stronger, with much the same 
effect, provided it be proportionably in greater or lesser 

. quantity. It may indeed be so very weak as to have 
little or no effect; and, on the other hand, so very 
strong, as to offend the stomach; but its degree of 
strength is easily discerned by the colour, smell, and 
taste, which alone are the natural and proper guides 
whereby to judge thereof; which strength may be easily 
varied, in any proportion, by changing the quantity 
either of tar or water, or the time of stirring. As for 
setting tar water to stand, this is not to make it stronger, 
but more clear and palatable. 

I found myself obliged to assert the innocence and 

k safety, as well as usefulness, of the tar water, as it is 
commonly made by the methods laid down in my former 
writings on this subject ; and this not only in regard 
to truth, but much more in charity to a multitude, which 
may otherwise perhaps be influenced by the authority 
of some, who endeavoured to put them out of conceit 
with a medicine so cheap, so efficacious, and so universal, 
by suggesting and propagating scruples about a caustic 
quality arising from the volatile oily particles of tar, or 
resin imbibed together with the acid in making tar 
water ; an apprehension so vain, that the reverse thereof 
is true, for which I appeal to the experience of many 

, thousands, who can answer for the innocence and safety, 
as well as efficacy, of this medicine, of which there are 

VOL. III. 2 H 



458 A i.BTTBB, &C. 

such amplfc end numerous certificates published to the 
world. 

I shall finish my essay on the plague and its cure, 
with observing, that in case God should withhold his 
hand for die present, yet these reflections will not be 
altogether fruitless, if they dispose men to a proper ten*- 
per of mind, and a cautiods regtofen* avoiding all ex- 
tremes (which things are justly reckoned among the 
chief preservative* against infection), but especially if 
the aptprehension of this desttoyer shall beget serious 
thoughts on the' frailty of hdmaa life, and, in come- 
qttenbe thereof, a reformation of maimers; advantages 
that wdukl snfficiently repay the trouble of writing and 
reading this letter, even though the trial of tar water, as 
& 'remedy for 1 the plague, should be postponed (as God 
grant it may) to -some future and distant opportunity. 



FARTHER THOUGHTS, 



&c. 



As the many experiments that are daily made of the 
virtues of tar water, furnish new discoveries and reflec- 
tions, some of these I have thrown together, and offer 
to the public in hopes they may prove useful. 

It is a frequent complaint, that tar water is made of 
bad tar, being of a reddish colour, sweetish, or disagree- 
ably insipid. But though the dregs of tar are often 
foul and make foul tar water, and though the tar already 
used is often made use of by unfair dealers a second} if 
not a third time, which produceth a vile potion, void of 
the genuine flavour and virtue of tar water ; yet I ap- 
prehend these defects may sometimes be ascribed, rather 
to the vessel wherein the tar water is made, than to the 
tar itself. 

Tar water being iffade in an earthen vessel unglazed, 
or that hath lost part of its glazing, may extract (as it 
is a strong menstruum) from the clay, a fade sweetish- 
ness, offensive to the palate. It should seem therefore, 
that the best way of making tar water is in a stone jug, 
or earthen vessel throughout well glazed ; and, as it will 
not fail to extract a tincture from any metalic vessel, it 
should be warmed in a well-glazed pipkin, rather than 
a saucepan. 

By increasing the proportion of tar to the water, 
and by stirring it longer, tar water may be made strong 
enough for a spoonful to impregnate a large glass, a 
.thing very useful on a road. 

2 h 2 



460 FARTHEB THOUGHTS, &C. 

Those who in chronical disorders, or as a preserva- 
tive, have for a long time drank tar water, must in 
acute cases drink the more. 

Tar water must be drank warm in agues, small-pox, 
. measles, and fevers, in cholics and disorders of the bow- 
els, in gout also, and rheumatism, in most other ail- 
ments, cold or warm, at the choice of the patient. 

In fevers the patient cannot begin too soon, or drink 
too much. By undoubted experience it is found to 
cool the hot, and warm the cold, and to be a most suc- 
cessful medicine in fevers, notwithstarf^jng its great 
virtue in palsies and dropsies. 

When not long since an inflammation attacked the 
throat, breast, and lungs, of children, and became ge- 
neral in my neighbourhood, numbers were recovered 
by the dse of tar water, nor did I hear that any miscar- 
ried who used it, though many perished who did not 

Nor is it a medicine less proper and efficacious in 
old age. At the same time that this inflammatory dis- 
temper raged among the children, a woman in her sixty- 
eighth year, from violent cold, was seized at once with 
. ague, cholic, and jaundice, of all which maladies she 
was cured in a fortnight, by drinking three pints of 
warm tar water every day. Numberless such instances 
daily occur, which shew it to be a safe and efficacious 
medicine both for old and young. 

Evacuations by sweat, which usually render patients 
very weak and dispirited, have not the same bad effects 
when produced by tar water, which I have frequently 
known to give high spirits in all the stages of a fever, 
and under the lowest regimen, therefore old people and 
weak persons, who cannot well bear common evacua- 
tions, are best cured by tar water, which in some sort 
seemeth to renew those who are worn out with age and 
infirmities. 

Tar water is of singular use in strengthening the 
stomach and bowels, and agrees particularly well with 



PARTHBB THOUGHTS. &C. 461 

• * • „ 

infants, taken either by themselves or by the nurse, and 
best by both. Though, as it throws the ill humours 
out into the surface of tfoe skin, it may render them for 
a time, perhaps, unseemly with eruptions, but withal 
healthy and lively. And I will venture to say, that it 
lays in them the principles of a good constitution for 
the rest of their lives. 

Nor is it only useful to the bodies of infants, it hath 
also a good effect on their minds, as those who drink it 
are observed to be . remarkably forward and spright- 
ly. Even the most heavy, lumpish, and unpromising 
infants, appear to be much improved by it. A child 
there is in my neighbourhood, of fine parts, who at first 
seemed stupid and an idiot, but, by constant use of tar 
water grew lively and observing, and is now noted for 
understanding beyond others of the same age. 

Infants are easily brought to take it by spoon, arid 
even grow to a liking of it, and as their disorders arise 
chiefly from indigestion, they receive the greatest bene- 
fit from a medicine so well calculated to strengthen the 
intestines, and preserve them from fits. In a word, if 
it were the common practice to accustom infants from 
the beginning to take tar water, this would greatly con- 
duce to the health both of their minds and bodies- 
There is, I am verily persuaded, no one thing in the 
power of art or nature, that would so generally and 
effectually contribute to repair the constitutions of our 
gentry and nobility, by strengthening the children, 
and casting off in their infancy those impurities and 
taints, which they often bring into the world. 

An infant may take one quarter of a pint in the 
day, warm, by spoonfuls, less may do good, and there 
is no fear of excess. When I consider the private woe 
of families, as well as the public loss occasioned by the 
death of such an incredible number of infants, under 
two years of age, I cannot but insist on recommending 
tar water, both as a remedy and preservative in that 



462 OTAftTHBR THOUGHT*, &C. 

tender age, which cannot bear the common treatment 
and methods of physic, or with safety take those drags 
which are fitter for grown persons. 

Another reason which recommends tar water, par- 
ticularly to infants and children, is the grett security 
it "brings against the small-pox, to those that drink it, 
who are observed, either never to take that distemper, 
ok* to have it in the gentlest manner. 

There is no distemper more cbntagious and de- 
structive than the small-pox, or more generally dreaded, 
attended with worse symptoms, or that leaves behind 
it worse effects ; I observe at the same time, that tar 
water is in no other case a more safe and sure remedy 
than in this : of which Captain Drape's certificate, sworn 
to before the Mayor of Liverpool* in the presence of 
several principal persons of that town, is a most evident 
proof. 

That one hundred and seventy persons, seized at 
once with the small-pox, deprived of all conveniences, 
and in the worst cirdumstances in a narrow ship and 
hot climate, should all recover by the single medicine 
of tar water, except one who would not drink it, is a 
matter of fact so plain and convincing, and so well at* 
tested, as to leave no doubt in minds free from pre- 
possession, about the usefulness and efficacy of tar wa- 
ter in the smalt-pox ; a point I had been before Suffi- 
ciently convinced of, by many instances in my owta 
neighbourhood. 

It hath been surfttfsed by Some celebrated physicians, 
that one day a specific may be discovered for the peculiar 
venom of the small-pox. There seems to be Some reason 
for thinking, that tar water is such a specific. I say this 

on good grounds, having by many experiments observed 
its virtue in curing, as well as ifi •preventing, that cruel 
distemper ; during the whole course of which, it is to 
be drank warm ; a moderate glass (about half a pint) 
every hour, in common ' cases, may dtiffiee^ in Iwd 



FABTHBK THOUGHTS, &C. 403 

caseo more may be given; there is no fear of ex* 



Those who endeavour to discredit this ecpling, cor- 
dial, and salutary medicine, as an inflapaer of the blood,, 
do very consistently decry its w$ in the; small-pox, but 
there can be nothing more clear, full, and satisfactory, 
than Captain Drape's affidavit, to convince reaspnable 
people of the great and surprising efficacy of tar water, 
in the cure of the small-pox 3 and consequently of the 
groundlessness of that report, which ascribes a heating 
or inflaming quality to it, And yet that groundless re- 
port hath hindered many from reaping the benefit they 
might otherwise have done, from the use of this water, 
which is gf excellent virtue in all kinds of inflammatory 
disorders, fevers, quinsies, pleurisies, and suchlike, of 
th$ hot and inflamed kind, whereof the public as well aa 
myaelf have known a multitude of examples. 

I ask whether the (apt sworn before the mpgistpate* 
of Liverpool, be opt a sufficient answer, to all that, ia 
objected, from an inflaming quality, to tar water. Can 
any instance be produced in the whole materia medico* 
or history of phyaic, of the virtue of a medicine tried 
on greater numbers, or wider greater disadvantages, >qr 
with greater ajugqssSj or wore credibly attested. I wish, 
£#r gie pommon good of wanfcnd, ^hat the same expe- 
riment wa* tried in our hospitals. Probably the wodd 
W9$dd poon be relieved from that great and general ter- 
ror of the awell-pox. 

When I hear oi the devastations made by this dia- 
t$pip£r, in great cities /and populous towns, ibaw many 
lives. are lost, or {as may be said) thrown Away, whioh 
might have been in all likelihood easily preserved, by 
the ; ^e of ; a «nodicine mo cheap and obvious, and in 
every one s power, it seems matter of greattpooecn and 
astonishment, ;and leaves , one at a loss to guess at the 
inothfeg, jthat .govern human actions in affairs of the 
greg?fijtjn9in3*k The ^j^eriment may i)e, easily made. 



464 FA&THBB. THOUGHTS, 8tC. 

if an equal number of poor patients Jn the small -pox. 
were put into two hospitals at the same time of the year, 
and provided with the same necessaries of diet and lodg- 
ing, and, for farther care, let the one have a tub of tar 
water and an old woman, the other hospital what at- 
tendance and drugs you please. 

In all obstinate sores and ulcers, I very much recom- 
mend the drinking of tar water ; and washing them with 
a strong lotion of it will hasten the cure. 

One of the most painful and dangerous cases is that, 
of a woman's sore breast. How many poor creatures, 
after long languishing in misery, are obliged to suffer the 
most severe chirurgical operations, often the cutting off 
the entire breast ? The use of tar water in those cases hath 
been attended with such success, that I do earnestly re- 
commend the drinking thereof, both as a cure and pre- 
servative, as a most effectual medicine to remove the 
shooting pains that precede a cancer, and also to cure 
the cancer itself, without amputation. Cancerous and 
sore breasts are such cruel cases, occasioned by so many 
internal causes, as well as outward accidents, that it is a 
necessary piece of humanity, to contribute all we can to 
the prevention and cure thereof. 

In the king's evil, leprosy, and foulest cases, tar wa- 
ter cannot be too much recommended. The poor va- 
gabonds of Ireland, are many of them infected and 
eaten up with the foul disease, .which with them passeth 
for a canker (as they call it). Several instances of ex- 
traordinary cures have been performed on such persons, 
by drinking tar water copiously, for some weeks or 
months together, without confinement or other re- 
straint, than that of a regular cool diet. It is indeed a 
specific, both for this and all other taints and impurities 
of the blood. 

An extract of Siris was made, and accounts of the 
effects of tar water were reprinted in America, in which 
continent, as well as in the islands, much use hath been 



FAHTHEH THOUGHTS, &C. 46'» 

made thereof, particularly by those who possess great 
numbers of slaves; of this I have been informed by 
letters, and by word of mouth, from persons belonging to 
those parts, who have assured ine of the extensive and 
successful use of this medicine in many cases, and more 
especially in the most inveterate kinds of the foul disease. 

I need not say how dearly they purchase health who 
obtain it by salivation, and yet long and severe as that 
course is, it is often unsuccessful. There are instances 
of such as having passed through it with much misery 
and patience, have been afterwards cured by the simple 
use of tar water. 

The king's evil, so loathsome in its symptoms and 
effects, and withal so difficult, if at all possible, to cure 
by any other method, is most surely and easily cured by 
the tar water, even when the patient is far gone, even 
when he derives it from his ancestors. A quart per 
diem for a few months, I have known to cure the most 
deplorable and abandoned cases. 

How many wealthy families, otherwise at their ease, 
are corrupted with this taint in their blood ! How many 
want heirs and husbands through this odious malady ! 
A specific for this disease alone, would be justly esteem- 
ed a most valuable secret, and the plenty and cheapness 
of the medicine ought not in reason to make it less 
esteemed. 

Salivating, bleeding, and purging, are attended with 
great hardships and inconveniences (even where the pa- 
tient recovers), reducing the strength and spirits of those 
who use them, whereas tar water greatly adds to both. 

In fractures and wounds, a quart or two drank daily 
while the patient is under cure, doth very much assuage 
the pain and promote his recovery, both as by its bal- 
samic nature it disposeth the parts to heal, and also as 
it lessens if not totally prevents the fever. 

A poor boy in Cloyne, having fallen from a tree, 






466 FARTHBR THOUGHTS, &C. 

broke both arm and wrist. This accident was concealed 
or neglected for two or three weeks, he was then put 
under the care of a skilful bone-setter, who finding the 
bones knit and grown crooked, and, that it would be 
necessary to break them again, in order to set them 
right, and wfthal considering the hot season of the year 
(in July), he apprehended his patient's being thrown 
into a fever that might prove fetal. But the boy being 
made to drink copiously of tar water, this prevented or 
lessened the fever in such sort, that the bones were 
broke and set again, and the cure proceeded as easily 
and speedily as could be wished. 

I have known severm instances of bruises and 
wounds cured by tar water. A person in my neigh- 
bourhood ran over by a horse was much bruised, and 
cured by drinking tar water. Another knocked down 
with a mallet, thereupon thrown into a violent fever, and 
given for dead ; another wounded with an axe, so that 
his life was thought in danger, were both recovered by 
the use of tar water ; winch, as it is sovereign against 
gangrenes and fevers, hath great success in all sorte ef 
wounds, contusions, and fractures, being taken through- 
out the whole chirurgical process, along with whatso- 
ever other methods or remedies are applied. 

Tar water operates variously. In dropsies and 
bruises it hath been known to work by purging. The 
stronger kind being used as a wash, is good against ul- 
cerous eruptions. But in all cases where the lotion is 
used, I believe the 'drinking of tar water might alone 
suffice, albeit the sores may be longer withering and 
drying away. 

There is a certain age or time of life, when .the fe- 
male sex runs no small riskirom the ceasing of their na- 
tural evacuations. In this case tar water is a good pre- 
servative, purifying the blood, and clearing it from that 
cancerous tendency, which it is sometimes subject to, 



FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C. 467 

about that time. I take it to be a specific in all cancer* 
ous cases, even the bleeding cancer, esteemed incurable 
by physicians, hath been cured by tar water. 

In diseases peculiar to women it is of no small use. 
Several who had suffered much by accidents in child- 
bearing/ have found themselves' relieved by tar water. 
In all sorts of tumours, wens, and preternatural excres- 
cences, it hath been found an excellent remedy. 

Many dangerous symptoms, and even sudden death, 
are often owing to a polypus, in some or other of the 
vessels, through which the blood circulates, than which 
it seems there is no inward cause of death or disease more 
to "be dreaded and guarded against ; how many drop 
down dead in our streets, or at table, or in the midst of 
business! how many are found dead in their beds ! 

Tremors, palpitations of the heart, irregular pulses, 
apoplexies, sudden deaths, often proceed from a slow, 
stagnating, interrupted motion, or stoppage of the blood 
ia its circulation through the body ; and there seemeth 
to be no cause so certainly productive of obstructed cir- 
culation as the polypus, a case, perhaps, much more fre- 
quent than is commonly imagined. Morgagni, the ce- 
lebrated professor at Padua, and most eminent anato- 
mist, who was supposed to have dissected more hum^n 
bodies than any man living, assured me, above thirty 
years ago, that in the far greater part of such bodies, he 
ftrond polypuses, if not in the ventricles of the heart or 
larger vessels, yet in some other vessel or cavity ; to 
which he attributes many disorders^ and which he sup- 
posed to be formed by the obstructed motion of the 
blood. To prevent this he dissuaded from all tight liga- 
tures, especially in sleep, unbuttoning the nedk and wrist 
bands of his shirt every night, a practice he had learn- 
ed (as he said) from his master, the famous Malpighi. 

When the circulation isonce quite stopped, nothing 
dan 'restore it, Which 'would be the same thing as restor- 
ing a dead man to life, and in proportion as the circu- 



1 

468 FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C. 

lation of the blood is obstructed, the body is disordered. 
Total obstruction is death ; partial obstruction is disease. 
The polypus therefore is always hurtful, if not mortal. 
It is, indeed, matter of serious reflection, that we may 
.probably carry about with us a principle of death, al- 
ways at work within, and of a nature so violent and 
sudden in its effects, so hard to come at, and so difficult 
to subdue. 

It may well be thought at first view, a vain under- 
taking, to attempt to dissolve a fleshy or membranous 
substance, so latent and inaccessible, by common means 
or medicines. But, as tar water hath been undoubtedly 
known to dissolve and disperse wens, and other fleshy 
or membranous tumours, in the outward parts of the 
body,* having been drank and circulated with the blood, 
it should seem by a parity of reason, that it may also 
dissolve and put an end to those concretions that are 
formed in the vetricles of the h eart or blood vessels, 
and so rembve one great cause of apoplexies and sudden 
death ; and what cures may prevent. I have been the 
longer on this subject, for the sake of many who lead 
sickly lives, as well as several who are snatched away by 
untimely death. 

Universally, in all cases where other methods fail, 
I could wish this of tar water was tried. It hath been 
sometimes known, that the most inveterate head-aches, 
and other nervous disorders, that would yield to no 
other medicine, have been cured by a course of tar water 
regularly and constantly pursued. 

Wheresoever pure blood or plenty of spirits are want- 
ing, it may be concluded from manifold experience, that 
tar water is of singular benefit. Several persons have 
acknowledged themselves to be much fitter to go through 
business or study from the use of it. 

Nor is it only medicinal to human kind : it is also 
of no small use in the curing of brute animals. It hath 

* See the effects of tar water, sect. 228, 229. 



FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C 469 

been tried on several kinds, particularly with great suc- 
cess in the late epidemical distemper of our horses. And 
I have been credibly informed, that being drank in plen- 
ty, it hath recovered even a glandered horse, that was 
thought incurable. 

And as it is of such extensive use, both to man and 
beast, it should seem, that a tub of tar water constantly 
supplied in a market town, would serve, in some sort, for 
an hospital. Many other drugs are not easily got, this 
is every where plenty and cheap ; many are of a doubtful 
nature, this of known innocence ; others soon perish, 
this lasts for years, and it is not the worse for keeping. 
This, in short, is a medicine for the common people, 
being a safe and cheap remedy for such as cannot af- 
ford to be long sick, or to make use of costly medi- 
cines. 

A patient who drinks tar water, must not be alarm- 
ed at pustules or eruptions in the skin ; these are good 
symptoms, and shew the impurities of the blood to be 
cast out. It is also not amiss to observe, that, as tar 
water, by its active qualities, doth stir the humours, en- 
tering the minutest capillaries, and dislodging obstruc- 
tions, it may happen that this working shall sometimes 
be felt in the limbs, or discharge itself in a fit of the gout, 
which, however disagreeable, proves salutary. 

I am credibly informed of several strange convey- 
ances, which tar water hath found out, whereby to dis- 
charge impurities from the hum^n constitution. A per- 
son who had been in a bad state of health above twenty 
years, upon a course of tar water was thrown into a 
most extraordinary fit of an ague, and from that time 
recovered a good state of health. An old gentleman in 
the county of Cork, who for a long time had been a 
valetudinarian, afflicted with many infirmities, being 
advised to drink tar water, found himself relieved, but it 
produced and soon cured a pthiriasis or lousy distemper, 



470 PABTHIB THOUGHTS, <CC, 

in which the putrid hupioun* having discharged them- 
selves, left him quite found ofyd healthy, 

In a course of tar water, if any disorder happens 
from some other cause, as from cold, from the use of 
strong liquors, from a surfeit, or such-li^e accident, it 
would not be fair to impute it to tar water: and yet 
this hath beep sometimes done. 

The effects of vomiting occasioned by tar water age 
not to be apprehended. Some are discouraged from 
drinking because their stomachs cannot bear it But 
when it takes a turn towards working upwards, nature, 
by that very way, hath been often known to carry on the 
cure. A worthy gentleman, member of parliament, 
came into my neighbourhood, .in .the autumn of the 
year 1750; he was cachectic and extremely reduced, so 
that his friends thought him near his end. Upon his 
entering into a course of tar water, it produced a prodi- 
gious vomiting, which weakened him much for the pre- 
sent ; but persisting to continue the use thereof for 
about two months, he was restored to his health, strength, 
and spirits. 

Tar water is very diuretic, thereby preventing stone 
and gravel, and carrying off by urine those salts that 
might otherwise occasion fevers, rheumatisms, dropsies, 
head-aches, and many other disorders, if retained in the 
blood. Hence some have apprehended a diabetes, from 
the continued use thereof, but it is so far from causing 
a diabetes, that it hath been known to cure that disorder. 

The constitution of a patient sometimes requireth, 
during a course of tar water, that he take water and 
honey, also roasted apples, stewed prunes, and other 
diet of an opening kind. A hint of this is sufficient. If 
the reader now and then meets with some remarks, con- 
tained in my former writings on this subject, he may be 
pleased to consider, I had rather repeat than forget what 
I think useful to be known. 



PA1THER THOUGHTS, &C. 471 

Some, endeavouring to discourage the use of tar 
water in England, have given out that it may indeed be 
serviceable in Ireland, where people live on such low diet 
as sour milk, and potatoes, but it cannot be of the same 
service in England, where men are accustomed to a more 
liberal and hearty food ; and indeed it must be owned, 
that the peasants in this island live but poorly, but no 
people in Europe live better (in the sense of eating and 
drinking) than our gentry and citizens ; and from these 
the instances of cures by tar water have been chiefly 
taken. Those who would confine its use to the moist 
air and poor diet of Ireland, may be assured that all over 
Europe, in France and Germany, Italy, Portugal, and 
Holland, tar water works the same effects. In both 
North and South, in West and East Indies, it hath been 
used and continues tobe used with great success. It hath 
reached all our colonies both on the continent and the 
islands, and many barrels of tar water have been sent 
from Amsterdam to JBatavia ; of all which I have had 
authentic accounts. But ite use is no where more con- 
spicuous than at sea, in curing that plague of seafaring 
persons, the -scurvy, as was found in the late attempt 
to discover a north-west passage ; and (as I doubt not) 
will be found as oft as it is tried. Every ship in his. mar 
jesty s navy should always have a vessel of tar water upon 
deck, for the use of the sailors, both in the scurvy and 

other maladies. 

~ It is indeed a medicine equally calculated for all cli- 
mates, for sea and land, for rich and poor, high and low 
livers ; being, as hath been elsewhere mentioned, a cor- 
dial which doth not heat ; a peculiar privilege this, and 
of. excellent use. That it is a cordial, is manifest from 
its cheering and enlivening quality, and that it is not 
heating, is as manifest, from its lingular i 
£ases where the blood is inflamed. As this 
imparts a friendly genial warmth, suited to the human 



472 FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C. 

constitution, those who pass through a course of tar 
water, would do well not to increase such friendly warmth 
to an inflaming heat, by a wrong regimen of high- sea- 
soned food and strong liquors, which are not wanted by 
the drinkers of tar water. There is a certain degree of 
heat necessary to the well-being and life of man. More 
than this will be uneasy, and this uneasiness indicates a 
proper choice of diet. 

. I have myself drank above a gallon of tar. water in 
a few hours, and been cooled and recovered from a fever 
by it. So many instances of the same nature I have 
known, as would make it evident to any unprejudiced 
person, that tar water is a cooling medicine; of which 
truth I am as thoroughly convinced, as it is possible to 
be of any theorem in physic or natural science. 

The unsuccessfulness of other methods, should ra- 
ther be an encouragement than a bar to the trial of tar 
water. A young lady, daughter to a worthy gentleman 
near Cork, had been long afflicted with a grievous pain 
in her side, and having had the best advice that could 
be got, was not relieved until she drank tar water, 
which quite removed her pain. Some time after she 
was again seized with the same disorder, but returning 
to the use of tar water, she grew well, and still conti- 
nues so. 

A woman turned out of the infirmary at Cork, as 
incurable, because she would not submit to the cutting 
off her leg, came to Cloyne, where she continued half a 
year drinking tar water, and living upon bread and milk, 
by which course she recovered, and went to service. 

There is at present, while I am writing, a most remark- 
able case here at Cloyne, of a poor soldier in a dropsy, 
whose belly was swollen to a most immoderate size. He 
said he had been five months in an hospital at Dublin, 
and having tried other methods in vain, left it to avoid 
being tapped. It is a fortnight since he came to Cloyne, 



FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C. 473 

during which time he hath drank two quarts of tar 
water every day. His belly is now quite reduced : his 
•appetite and sleep which were gone are restored : he 
gathers strength every moment: and he who was de- 
spaired of, seems to be quite out of danger, both to him- 
self, and to ail who see him. It is remarkable, that 
upon drinking the tar water, he voided several worms 
of a very extraordinary size. This medicine, which is 
observed to make some persons costive, is to hydropic 
patients a strong purge. The present is but one of se- 
veral instances, wherein the dropsy hath been cured by 
tar water ; which I never knew to fail in any species of 
that malady. 

I am very credibly informed, that an aged clergy- 
man of Maidstone in Kent, being reduced to the last 
extremity by the gout in his stomach, after having tried 
strong liquors, and the methods usual in that case with- 
out success, betook himself to drink a vast quantity of 
warm tar water, still replenishing and letting it take its 
course ; by which it pleased God to deliver him from 
the jaws of death. 

A gentleman in the county of Clare, near Ennis, had 
a fever and pleurisy, and inflammation of the lungs, 
being at the last extremity, and given ove^ by two phy- 
sicians, he was advised to drink tar water, which he did, 
eight quarts. Next morning one of the doctors asking 
at what hour his patient died, to his great surprise 
found he was recovered. This I had from a parliament- 
man, his neighbour. 

When the yellow fever (as it was called) raged in 
the West Indies, the negroes, with a tub of tar water in 
their quarters, did well : but some of the better sort 
miscarried, among whom the physician himself lay at 
the point of death ; but his brother recovered him by 
pouring down his throat in spoonfuls, some of the same 
liquor that recovered the negroes. The fact was related 

vol. in. 2 I 



474 PARTHBB THOUGHTS, &C. 

to me by a gentleman who was then in th6 island of St 
Christopher's, and knew it to be true. 

A physician himself, not long sinoe asfeured ntey he 
h&d cured an ulcer in the bladder, by ordering hkt pa- 
tient to drink tar water, when he had tried all other me- 
thods ill vain, and thought the case incurable* 

But it would be endless to relate the effects erf* tar 
water in desperate cases. The recovery of Mrs. Wilson, 
daughter to the late Bishop of London, from a lingering 
hopeless disorder, was a noted case, and attested to by 
his Lordship. I have even been informed upon good 
authority, of two or three instances, wherein persotfe 
have been recovered by tar water, after they had rattles 
in the throat. 

In certain cases, a smaller quantity of tar water hath 
proved ineffectual, when a larger hath perfected die 
cure. A woman of Cloyne got cold after child-bearing, 
whidh occasioned a great pain in her thigh, swelling also 
and redness; she continued in great torment above 
three weeks. She then began to drink tar water, but 
not drinking much she did not peroeive much good ; 
and when there was not any hopes of her life, she was 
persuaded to try what a gallon a day might do, upon 
this she grew better, the swelling broke and ran ; no 
dressing was used but tar, and no washing but tar water, 
until she was quite recovered. 

In ailments of an odd and untried nature, it itiay be 
worth while to try tar water. In proof of this many 
instances might be given. A gentleman with a withered 
arm had it restored by drinking tar water. Another who, 
by running his head against a post, had a concussion of 
the brain attended with very bad symptoms, recovered by 
drinking tar water after other medicines had failed. In my 
own neighbourhood, one had lost the use of his limbs by 
poison, another had been bitten by a mad ass ; these per- 
sons drank tar water, and their cure was attributed to it. 

i 



When tdr Water is copiously drant hi fevers* thii 
great danger to be guarded agam4t* is ari exeetoive flow 
of spirits* which excites the patient to teik and divert 
himself with company, which fltay pfoduce a rdapse? of 
this I have known fatal effects. 

If in a course of tar water, the patient should find 
himself heated, let him abstain from or lessen his dose 
of spirituous and fermented liquors ; for tar water alone 
never heats. 

In chronical disorders it is not advisable to break 
off a course of tar water at once, but rather to diminish 
the quantity by degrees. 

The acid done hath not the medicinal virtues of tar 
water. This is agreeable to reason and experience, as 
well as the opinion of the ablest judges. Doctor Linden 
justly observes, u that when the empyreumatic oil is en- 
tirely separated from the dcid, it is not in any shape su- 
perior to any other distilled acids or vinegars whatso- 
ever." — Treatise on Selter Water, p. 307. 

That extraordinary virtues should be contained in 
tar water,* will not seem strange, if we consider that 
pitch is nothing else but hardened tar, or tar drained of 
its moisture ; and that an extraordinary quantity of 

* Something of this nature hath been long expected, and hoped 
for, if we may credit that learned chemist Doctor Linden, " at last- 
(saith he) the long delayed wishes of the most eminent men of the 
faculty are fulfilled, in the Bishop of Cloyne's discovery." — See 
Treatise on Selter Water, p. 303. Again (speaking of empyreu- 
matic oils of plants) he hath these words, " There has always pre- 
vailed a notion among the chemists, and particularly with Paracelsus 
and his followers, that in those oils there lay a' great secret undis- 
covered. This notion was occasioned by the strange effects which 
a small quantity thereof hath upon the human machine. Several 
have been very diligent to discover this secret* and to find out a 
method to administer these oils with safety ; yet nothing was per- 
formed salutary, until the Bishop of Cloyne discovered to us the 
tar water ; to him alone we are indebted, for rendering the empy- 
reumatic oils a safe medicine, in every respect/' — Ibid. p. 302. 



476 FARTHER THOUGHTS, &C. 

light is retained in the substance of pitch, as appears 
from certain electrical experiments, which, having been 
made since, seem aot a little to confirm what had before 
been suggested in Siris.^ 



THE END. 



J. F. Dove, Printer, St. John's Square. 



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